Death Sentence
by TheCinnamonTiger
Summary: Do you really think Azkaban could hold a master Dark Wizard after he's already escaped once? Come on. It's just a bunch of pathetic little men guarding stones and bars. They're no match for a Death Eater. (A Barty Crouch Jr. fanfiction)
1. Chapter 1

**So I've changed just a few things about Barty's original story, but nothing that changes the character. I just thought I should let you know before you read it and are like, "What? That's not what happened!" don't worry, it's still the same person with the same overall story and the same attitude. Nothing about _him _has changed. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! It's my first Harry Potter sort of fanfiction, so please tell me what you think! ^.^**

Barty Crouch Junior sat alone in his prison cell, slumped against the wall, fiddling with the cuffs around his wrists absently as he stared out through the bars, listening intently as he always did. It was something he had made a habit of, listening to the whispers and screams around him. He had been here so long now, since his dreaded father had put him here, that he could tell what screams were that of torture, and what were that of a Dementor feasting. He could tell what whispers spoke of escape (a futile attempt, he knew), what whispers were spoke to oneself out of pure loneliness and sorrow, and what whispers were that of simply talking to a fellow cell mate.

He wasn't allowed that pleasure. The guards and warden of Azkaban were afraid that if he had a cellmate, Barty might kill him. They may have been right. Something to pass the time, perhaps.

As he strained his ears to listen to the agitated whispers in the cell next to him, his fingers scratched against the metal of his handcuffs, and he tried to pull his sweaty hand out of the cuff. As always, it didn't work. It didn't even come close to coming out. But, as always, that didn't stop him.

After all, he was sentenced to death. He knew that. Why wouldn't he be? He had tried to kill Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The name sounded vile in his head, and he tried to erase the young boy with the scar from his thoughts.

Although, it had been fun masquerading as Hogwart's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Nobody ever suspected it had been him all along, even with him having to constantly drink a bit of that potion. But, if anybody would have ever asked him about it, he would have just given him that eye that Mr. Moody could so easily scare people away with, or told them it was a sort of alcohol, and none of their business. But the first was more likely.

And he had been so close to completing his task. If only Dumbledore and his pathetic group of friends hadn't shown up at just the wrong time, Harry Potter would have been dead, and Barty would have been so well rewarded.

But, here he was, sitting in his prison cell with the rats and scum that lived in Azkaban. But when he got back, somehow the whole jail had heard of what he had done, and his fellow followers of Voldermort had rejoiced, slapping him on the back and cheering as he was led by in chains. They all knew how hard it was to infiltrate Hogwarts, and also to escape Azkaban. And he had done both.

But his fame had quickly diminished, like it always had. And he was to die in only a day's time. He would have one more meal before his Dementor would come along.

He felt no regret for what he had done, and in his eyes, it was the right thing, the smart thing, and everybody else at Hogwarts were dimwitted frogs. But still, he didn't want to die. He was a powerful wizard, and he believed he could escape Azkaban again, somehow. And, obviously, the warden thought so too. That's why he was to die. He was too dangerous.

He gave a laugh at that thought. A quiet, dark chuckle as his hands still struggled with the cuffs. The cuffs were new. Not many other prisoners had hand cuffs. Only the most dangerous ones. Sirius Black had had cuffs, and only a few others. Now he had earned them. And as annoying as they were, they were a reminder of his accomplishments. He had done well.

He heard footsteps echo down the corridor, and immediately, whispers off to his left ceased. Those were escape whispers.

The footsteps came closer and closer, and Barty cocked his head ever so slightly to listen, licking his lips. He looked up as a guard stopped outside his cell, looking pale and nervous, holding a tray of food. Barty could practically smell the fear on him, and it caused a twisted smile to light onto his lips.

The guard bent down, took a key and his wand off of his belt. He cast a quick (rather simple) unlocking spell on the food door, and then unlocked again with the key. The small flap opened and the guard slipped the food under it, casting nervous looks at Barty.

His smile stayed on his lips, and at the last moment, he lunged forward, pulling against his chains and causing them to jangle as he yelled something unintelligible at the guard. It caused him to gasp, lock the flap the same way he unlocked it, and take off down the corridor. Barty watched him scramble away, rocking back onto his haunches, his smile quickly vanishing. This was his last meal.

It was pathetic. A rather stale slice of bread and small pitcher of water. He took the bread anyways, stuffing it into his mouth and enjoying it as much as he could. He savored the taste, knowing this would be his last.

He devoured the bread in no time, and then grabbed the pitcher, throwing his head back and drinking deeply, enjoying the feeling of the liquid rushing down his throat. The water wasn't even cold. It was almost warm from sitting in some vat somewhere, but he still enjoyed it.

When he finished his meal, his stomach growled loudly, hoping for more. Barty looked around hungrily, hoping for even a crumb that he hadn't seen, or had forgotten. He was still so hungry. They never gave him enough to eat here, and Barty thought it might be because the guards secretly hoped that he would eventually starve to death, and they wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. But they couldn't get rid of him that easily.

But now, it seemed, they had had enough. It was just hours before he was to be killed. A Dementor would feast tonight.

Barty slowly made his way back to his spot against the wall, slumping lazily against it, going back to absentmindedly fiddling with the chains around him. The whispers had started up again, and Barty almost laughed at their futile attempts to escape. No, you needed more than just half hearted whispers to escape this place.

Eventually, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. He had no dreams. As much as he didn't want to die, he wasn't afraid to. The Dementors had never scared him like they did the other prisoners. Neither did the guards. He had always enjoyed messing with them as they walked by, screaming at them that he would get his revenge. It was just something else he did to pass the time. It was immensely boring in his cell.

What felt like moments later, his eyes snapped open. He heard footsteps again. But this time, it was that of many guards. Heavily armored guards, at that. Barty woke himself up fully and crept forward, staying crouched down, his chains dragging across his messy floor.

"Alright, this is it." a voice rang out as they stopped in front of his cell.

Barty looked up at the group with dark eyes, still staying on the ground. He licked his lips as one of the guards unlocked the door. He stayed absolutely still, his eyes flicking between all of them, perhaps looking for the weak link. Surely they wouldn't take his cuffs off, but they would have to unchain him from the wall. Then they would take him out of his cell, towards his Dementor. That would be his chance.

"Alright, Crouch. I expect an easy walk." the guard said, his voice coarse and hard.

This one seemed not as afraid, although Barty could still smell fear on him. He stayed as still as a statue as the guard walked around him and to where his chains were attached to the wall. He used a spell and a key once again to take them off of the wall. As soon as his chains hit the ground, a sense of freedom rushed through him, except for the fact that at least four of the guards had stepped directly into his path in case he decided to make a run for it.

No, not yet.

"Get up, Crouch." the guard said, grabbing his arm roughly.

Barty stood up fully, a little wobbly on his feet. He was a bit taller than the guard, which brought a bit of a smile to his lips. The guard kept his hand firmly on his shoulder and pushed him into the crowd of other guards, who got into a formation around him, readying their wands as he stood in the center of them, head bowed.

This certainly showed that they thought he was more dangerous. Others who had a death sentence normally had only one or two guard escorts. Barty had seven, all ready and waiting to blast him to bits with their spells. He almost laughed.

"Alright, walk." the first guard said, jabbing his wand into his back.

"Don't aggravate him!" a hurried whisper said off to his back left.

There it was. The weakest link. He just had to wait for the right moment. When he was around a group of locked cells, so they couldn't get him into one easily. But he couldn't wait too long. That would be a lot of corridors to run up.

His heart beat seemed to count the moments, and his blood roared in his ears. He kept his head down and ever so slightly walked just a bit slower so he was closer to his back left.

On three.

He drifted slightly more towards where the concerned whisper had come from.

One.

His heart sped up even more and he was sure the guards could hear it.

Two.

Adrenaline pumped into his veins. He steadied his breaths.

Three.

Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, spinning around in the process and knocking the guard to his left off his feet, sending him sprawling to the ground, screaming. He certainly had been the weakest link.

He heard at least four of the other guards yell out a spell at the same time, aiming their wands at him. He dove out of the way, rolling into another corridor that led to a torture chamber.

But another guard was close behind him, and he clapped his hand around his shoulder. Barty jumped up, yelling some sort of battle cry, and turned in the guard's grasp, running neatly up his body and knocking him to the ground with a painful sounding crack.

Barty spun around to make his escape, blood pumping through his veins three times faster than normal, now sure he would make it.

But as he turned, all his hopes were shattered.

The guards were still there, but they had parted, looking even more afraid than they had of him. A Dementor was slowly floating towards him. His only way to run was blocked by it, and the other way only led to the torture room. A room he knew too well, and also knew didn't have a way out except for this way. He was trapped, and his death had come to him.

His eyes flicked around anxiously for a way out, but saw nothing. This was it. That bread and water had really been his last meal. He closed his eyes for just an instant, remembering the taste of the dry, stale bread on his tongue, and the water satisfying his burning thirst. That was the last time he would ever taste that.


	2. Chapter 2

Suddenly, he heard someone else yell out another spell, and immediately, as he opened his eyes, the room was filled with smoke. Not an instant later, as Barty took a hesitant step backwards, he felt someone wrap their arm around him from behind, and then put a gag around his mouth, tying it tightly.

He lost his footing as he was drug backwards, the smoke still as thick as ever, causing him to cough a little.

"Shut up!" a feminine voice hissed in his ear.

Not being able to stop, he continued to cough, although more quietly. Was this person saving him from the Dementor? Had another of Voldermort's followers come to rescue him?

He heard the Dementor as he neared them, and he certainly hoped this girl knew what she was doing.

It seemed she did, because not a moment later, she wrapped her other arm around him, holding him tightly, and whispered a word he had never heard before.

There was a loud explosion that caused his ears to ring, and a bright flash of light, and the scenery changed around him. Suddenly, the arms let go of him, and he fell to the ground, hitting his face rather hard.

Before he had time to get his bearings, someone was dragging him up again and untying the gag from around his mouth, letting it fall to the floor.

Barty's vision swam as he tried to look at everything at once. Eventually, the scenery came into focus. He seemed to be in a cave. It was dark, though, and he couldn't make out everything. He thought he saw a desk covered in papers (some of which had his face on them) off to his right, a comfy looking arm chair a few feet away from that, a dirty rug taking up a good portion of the floor, and candles scattered around the cave.

He blinked as one of the candles seemed to suddenly light itself. Then another, and another, and then all of them were lit. They burned his eyes at first, being so used to the dark cells of Azkaban and travelling at night, he was almost a nocturnal animal. The light seemed almost foreign to him. He didn't even like the day anymore. That had been one thing difficult about masquerading as Moody. He had to do most everything during the day, and it was hard to sleep at night after being awake when the stars were for so long.

He took in the rest of the cave quickly, noting escape routes (there only seemed to be one, and that was the mouth, which was a long ways away), a small potion brewing lab, a small basket laden with ingredients, and shelves of more ingredients next to that.

"Barty Crouch Junior," a voice rang out.

He looked up and saw a girl, not facing him, looking at one of the papers on the desk. She put it down and turned around to look at him.

She had dark red hair, half of her head shaved and long hair on the other side, and a messy ponytail. Her eyes were pale blue and she had a scar just beneath her eye that told of a close encounter. She wore skinny jeans - muggle clothes - leather boots over top of them, a green, Slytherin colored tank top, and a black leather jacket.

She frowned at him. "That is your name, right?" she held up a picture and looked at it, exchanging glances with it and him. "Looks like you. All angry and messy haired." she said.

His lips twisted into a snarl and he ran forward, pushing her farther back against the desk.

"Definitely you." she said quietly.

"Quiet!" Barty screamed.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and then shoved him away and pushed him into a chair. "Your hands are tied." she commented. "And they will be, until you agree to help me."

"Help you?" Barty hissed. "Why on Earth would I help you? You're not Lord Voldermort, or even one of his followers."

"Well spotted! No, I don't follow Volde-whatever. In fact, he broke my wand. Snapped it right in two. Never could get another one." she replied. "Know what else he did? He killed my dad."

Barty chuckled. "Voldermort will kill all who stand in his way."

"I know. Trust me. Know what else?" she spun on her heel and bent over his chair, pressing her nose against his own. "So will I." she said, her voice suddenly dark and completely serious.

But Barty just laughed. He'd like to see this pathetic girl try to kill him, or any one of Voldermort's followers. He'd kill her with his hands tied behind his back. And that seemed to be all that was going to happen at the moment.

"You haven't got your wand." Barty growled.

"Neither have you." she snapped back, still staying close to his face.

"Don't need one." he said, although he wished he did have his.

"Neither do I." she said, and slowly backed away.

Then, she stood up straighter, and, as if to prove her point, spoke a word, causing all the candles to flicker out at once.

Barty just laughed from his spot on the chair. He spoke another word and all the candles flickered back to life.

She smirked at him, aiming two fingers at his head, and speaking another word. Immediately, his hair transformed into an afro that jiggled when he moved even the slightest.

He frowned deeply and spoke again, sending his hair back to its comfortable messiness.

"Enough of your childish jokes!" he cried.

"You asked for it." she said.

She raised her hands, and without even speaking a word, flicked her wrists and vanished. She reappeared an instant later behind Barty's chair.

"Like it?" she asked. "How's this?"

She waved her hand in front of her face and suddenly, Barty felt as if the blood inside him had turned to ice. Maybe it had. He let out a strangled cry and she waved her hand again. The feeling vanished.

"That's not even the best part." she said, her voice getting more and more angry as he walked out in front of him.

She spread her arms again, and then brought them down around her, and immediately, she seemed to burst into flame, absorbing the small candle by her feet as her red hair became immensely redder.

Barty watched, his eyes wide. Of course, he could do all that and more with his wand, but she was doing it without any sort of help. Not even words.

The fire slowly melted off her body and into the air, leaving it much hotter than before, and stormed up to him. "I believe I won that little magic duel." she hissed.

"Not if I would have had my wand." he growled.

"You mean... this?" she asked suddenly, pulling something out of a pocket inside her jacket, holding it up.

She backed up, waving his wand in front of his face like a trophy. He lunged at her from his chair, but she flicked her hand up, causing him to be pushed backwards.

"Not yet." she said. "You can't have it yet."

"We'll see about that," he hissed.

"Barty, you're sick." she said, the sudden change in her voice unsettling.

She said it with compassion, and looked at him in a way no one had ever looked at him before. What was that in her eyes?

"I'm fine!" he shouted. "Now let me go! Isn't that why you got me out of that dreaded prison?"

He was suddenly filled with rage. That seemed to happen to him too often. Someone would say something, maybe something that he knew hadn't meant to be offensive, or even something to help him, and he would suddenly feel so angry.

He hated this girl. He didn't know who she was, and she seemed to know who he was. She seemed to know more about him than a lot of people. She carried herself with such confidence, and seemed so unafraid. But Barty knew better. Despite her power, she was so scared. Beneath her blazing eyes and spells and tough words, she was a frightened little girl.

Barty ate girls like these for breakfast.

But here he was, sitting in this chair, hands still bound, screaming at her to hand over his wand and let him go. Why hadn't he simply burned her to a crisp yet? After all, she was scared to death of him (it shone in her eyes), and if he lunged forward at her at the right moment, she might scream and do whatever he wanted.

That was his chance.

"You're not fine!" she shouted back, and Barty could see that she was trembling, still clutching his wand like it was some sort of lifeline. "You're dreadfully sick, and I can help you!"

"I'm not sick!"

"Are you sure? Are you sure you haven't just been like that for so long that you're just used to it now?" she asked, her voice cold.

Barty went quiet. Out of habit, he began to involuntarily fiddle with the cuffs around his wrists, trying again to break free of them or to slip his sweaty hand out of them. They were too tight and left scars on his hands, though. But he didn't even feel the pain anymore. It was nothing compared to other things he had endured.

"I'm sure." he finally growled.

The girl looked at him with one of her eyebrows raised. Then, she put his wand in her back pocket, and then raised her hands, causing a flurry of white sparkles to dance through the air towards Barty. He cringed as they neared him, and then felt one slip into his partly open mouth. He looked up at her, eyes wide. "What are you doing to me?"

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, not lowering her hands. Barty tried to think of some trick he may have learned to help expel magic from his body, or to cancel out magic sent to him, but nothing came to mind.

Suddenly, he choked, and the girl lowered her hands. He broke into a fit of violent coughing, racking his body so much that he fell out of the armchair, landing hard on the ground. He coughed again, harder this time, and felt something well up into his throat. He hoped it was the vile magic she had sent into him, but it seemed to be a warm liquid. He gave a final cough and then spat blood out of his mouth, making nasty mess on the floor.

"See?" the girl asked as he looked up at her, licking his now blood stained lips.

He didn't bother to point out that maybe if her sickly magic hadn't entered him, he wouldn't have coughed up blood. That much should be obvious to even the dullest child. But, by now, he had had enough of this girl. Hands bound or not, as long as he could get his wand back, she would be toast. Maybe quite literally.

He lunged at her from his spot on the ground, looking especially frightening with his bloody lips and chin, which was now dripping down his neck. She took a few startled steps backwards, eyes widening ever so slightly.

Enough to give Barty the telltale sign that she was afraid. Perfect.

He stumbled towards her, picking up speed as she backed up. She was backing right into a wall. He would have her cornered in no time. She brought her hand up, maybe to try and send him back to his chair again, but he knocked her hand down before she had a chance.

"Not this time," he snapped as the girl suddenly felt the hard wall behind her. "This time, you're mine."

She glared up at him, looking ferocious and unafraid, but Barty could see the shake in her hands and smell the fear coming off her like it was her perfume. He licked his lips, tasting a bit of his own blood. "Give me, my wand." he growled, his voice quiet and maybe a bit raspy from all his coughing earlier.

The girl made no move, only staring at him.

"Now!" he screamed, pressing his forehead against hers painfully.

She cringed, but again stayed still. Barty awkwardly bent around her and grabbed his wand out of her pocket, glaring at her the entire time. When he had it firmly in his grasp, enjoying the familiar wood in his fingers and the warm feeling that raced from his fingers and up through his arm when he swished it around, a crooked grin found its way onto his face.

He gave it another simple flick, and his cuffs fell off of his wrists. He stretched, glad to be rid of those dreaded things. Then, he grinned at the girl again, taking quick steps towards her. He was going to enjoy killing her.

He raised his wand, about to scream the word for the killing curse, when she raised both of her arms in an attempt to shield herself. Immediately, a ring of fire went around her, burning the edges of his threadbare coat.

He jumped backwards as the rug and chair caught fire around her. The girl leaped out of the ring, fire attaching to her skin without hurting her as she fell on top of him, knocking the wand from his grasp. Heat seeped through his clothes and burned his skin as her fiery hands held him down.

But he was a strong young man and he jumped back up, managing to knock her off. The fire ring faded and she stayed crouched low to the ground, moving slowly and keeping her eyes on him.

He was breathing heavily as he picked up his wand, angrily licking his lips again. He rolled his shoulders and raised his wand again. "Crucio!" he shouted, but she rolled out of the way just in time.

He screamed something unintelligible as she stood up, raising his wand again. She wiggled her fingers a bit, and then suddenly thrust her hand forward.

Barty immediately lost his balance, falling backwards onto the ground. A moment later, she was standing over him again, raising her hand above him like she was going to send him to his doom. And before he had time to react, she thrust her hand down onto his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Immediately, all of his limbs began to tingle. The tingling grew in power until it felt as if he were being continually stabbed with knives.

He screamed in pain and rolled over, knocking her over and her hand lifted off his chest. The pain ceased immediately. Barty clambered to his feet. She was still lying on the ground, trying to get up. He pressed the tip of his wand to her head, teeth gritted.

She looked up at him, and the fear was clear in her eyes. That was good. She had an extremely good reason to be afraid.

"Sectumsempra." he growled.

Almost immediately, scars opened up along her body and blood began to trickle down her arms. Her eyes widened as she looked down at herself. The bleeding increased until it was practically a river down her body. She screamed as the pain overtook her. But she didn't last long. So much blood was being lost that she almost immediately fell over, losing consciousness.

Barty stood over her limp body, slowly lowering his wand. He kicked her side lightly, rolling her over as the blood stained the floor fairly close to where his own blood had hit the floor. He made a sort of harrumphing noise, licked his lips, and turned to leave.

He made for the exit, leaving behind this dreaded cave. But not a minute later, he ran into a wall. Literally.

He felt his nose to make sure it wasn't broken, readjusted it, and then brought his hands up to place against the smooth, transparent wall in front of him. It was nearly invisible. A perfect cover. No one could see in, but no one could get out, either. Unless you knew where the door was.

Barty began to run his hands across the wall, feeling for any sort of sign of a door. He cast a few spells on it, including one that was supposed to blow things up. Nothing worked. He was trapped inside. And the only one who knew the way out was bleeding to death in the other room.

He stepped backwards, and then turned on his heel, running back towards her as fast as he could. He didn't know her name to call out. Not that he cared. As long as she was still alive enough to get him out. He had obviously proved that he could kill her, probably with or without a wand. She would do what he asked.

He cast the counter spell on her and then placed his wand into the inside pocket of his jacket and knelt over her. The bleeding stopped, but she made no move to get up. He grabbed her by the shoulders and hauled her up, putting her into the charred remains of the armchair. He had to get her up so he could escape.

He shook her, but nothing happened. He tried screaming at her, tipping her chair over backwards, casting a spell to wake her up, and slapping her. Nothing. Did she even have enough to wake up? Was she even alive?

He pushed two of his fingers up to her neck, feeling for a pulse. He licked his lips as he felt a soft beating beneath her skin. She was alive, but not by a lot. Another minute or two, and she may not have been.

He rocked back onto his heels, placing his arms on his knees. He would have to wait for her to wake up. He sighed and fell back onto the floor, sprawling out. What could he busy himself with while he waited?

Suddenly, his stomach growled as if to remind him of his burning hunger, and that that bread and water hadn't really been a proper meal. He sprung to his feet. She was bound to have food around here somewhere, right?

He opened every drawer of her desk and searched through all of her papers, sending most of them to the floor. He looked on all the ingredient shelves, careful not to touch anything that could hurt him. Then, an idea struck him. He was pretty good with potions, and he knew which ingredients would be fatal to eat, which ones had side effects, and which ones were perfectly harmless to eat.

He suddenly began picking things off the shelves, licking his lips incessantly. His stomach growled again, and Barty nearly told it to shut up. Finally, when he had grabbed every ingredient alright to eat, he collapsed to the ground and leaned up against the wall. Then, he feasted. A large pile of ingredients had been changed to his new dinner.

While he was eating, the girl had woken up. Quietly, so Barty didn't hear her. She watched him for a bit, looking thoroughly disgusted. And that was more than half of her stock of ingredients, disappearing down his throat. That had taken her a long time to get, and she decided he was going to get her more, whether he liked it or not.

"Interesting meal you have there." she suddenly spoke from her spot in the burnt armchair.

Barty jerked his head to look up at her, swallowing what had looked like her only bit of eel eyes. She frowned at him.

He glared at her and finished eating; only having a little bit of the ingredients left.

"Let's hope those don't combine in your stomach to make a death potion." she taunted him, slowly getting up, a bit wobbly on her feet.

Barty opened his mouth to retort that he knew none of them would do that, but she cut him off.

"How much of my supply did you use?"

To answer her question, she looked up at her shelves, which now looked considerably bare. She frowned again.

Barty stood up, feeling better now, and dusted himself off (he was really only spreading it around, though). "You need to unlock your door." he demanded.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, walking past him and to a cupboard he had overlooked before.

"Because if you don't, I'll kill you." he said, pulling out his wand again.

"Sealing yourself in forever." she added, pulling out what looked like a blueberry scone from the cupboard, munching away on it.

He narrowed his eyes at the scone, and then huffed. She was right. If he killed her, he would be stuck in here forever.

"I'd much rather be stuck in here than have to deal with you." he growled, still brandishing his wand.

"You have a point there. Frankly, so would I." she replied, munching noisily on her scone.

Barty continued to glare at her, and then stormed forward, pressing his wand against her neck, causing the scone to fall out of her hand. "You will let me out."

His boot accidentally crushed the scone, squishing part of it to the sole of his shoe.

"You murdered my lunch," she said sadly.

"I don't care about your lunch!" he cried, pressing the wand harder into her throat.  
"I can see that..." she said slowly, an overconfident voice betraying one of fear.

"Unlock the door." Barty hissed, leaning forward slightly, his tongue flicking out of his mouth without him meaning too.

"I will, I will! But I can't with your wand threatening to poke me to death." she said, narrowing her eyes at him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, still keeping his wand up.

"That's better." she said, straightening up a bit. "Now, I'll let you out, but you have to do something for me."

"I'll do nothing for you!" he shrieked, thrusting his wand at her and sending her to the ground.

She looked up and shoved her hand at him, the same effect happening to him. He jerked his head up and they stared at each other for a moment, sizing each other up, and an insane amount of lip-licking from Barty.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, his voice quiet.

"I want my mum." she replied.

"Your mum?" he asked, the word seeming foreign on his tongue.

"Yes, my mum. Do you not know what they are?" she asked sarcastically.

"I know what they are." he growled. "Why isn't she here?"

"Because your stupid master tried to kill her." she snapped.

Barty laughed, the sound of it dark and twisted, filling up the room. "If Lord Voldermort attacked your mother, she's dead."

"No, your stupid master's scout-people, whatever they're called."

"Death Eaters." Barty replied, his voice dark.

The mark on his forearm seemed to burn at the words.

"Them. They tried to kill her, but she escaped."

"Impossible," he spat.

"No! She contacted me! She needs help! But I can't do it alone." she said, looking at him. "That's where you come in."

He nearly laughed again. How thick was this girl?

"Do you really think it's wise to bring me with you? Of all people?" he asked. "Do you even know who I am?"

She jumped to her feet. "You have no idea what I've had to go through to even get you here! Do you think Azkaban is easy to infiltrate?" she was almost shouting now.

Barty stayed on the floor, looking up at her, tongue flicking in and out of his mouth. "I know very well what it's like in Azkaban." he snapped.

"Then you know how hard it is to get someone out! I saved you from death, and this is how you treat me?" she was screaming at him now.

"I never asked for you to save me!" he screamed back at her. "I was content to die there! The Dark Lord was safe because of me, my job was done!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you wanted to die!"

He faltered.

No. He hadn't wanted to die.

"That's what I thought. I saved your sorry hide, Barty!"

He jerked when she used his name. Nobody used his name. If they did, they called him Crouch, or prisoner. Never Barty.

He looked up and noticed she was crying now. Tears were streaking her splotched face, and she turned from him. Still, he stayed on the ground.

"Now," her voice was shaky, and her shoulders shook ever so slightly. "You're going to help me find my mum or I'm going to send you back to Azkaban, do you understand?"

"How are you going to make sure I don't run off?" he asked.

She turned around, seemingly ignoring his question. "You said you wanted out?"

She started to walk towards the mouth of the cave, and Barty hurriedly followed her, clutching his wand tightly.

"Now, are you ready?" she asked.

He nodded, antsy for her to open the door. As soon as she did, he was gone. If she tried to stop him... Well, he'd kill her if he had to.

"Oh! I feel terribly rude. I never introduced myself!" she said suddenly.

Barty rolled his eyes. He didn't care what her name was, he just wanted her to open the door already.

"My name is Alyssa."

"Yes yes, now open the door." Barty said, hopping back and forth on each of his feet, eyes trained on the transparent wall.

"You should find your manners," Alyssa harrumphed and pressed her hand to the wall.

She muttered something he couldn't hear or understand, no matter how hard he strained his ears.

"Okay, before we go, there's one final thing." she said.

"Oh for the sake of the Dark Lord, hurry it up!" Barty nearly shouted.

She pulled something out of her coat pocket and held it up. It was a little circlet made of dark metal.

"Come here." she said.

"I don't think so." he said, taking a step backwards and brandishing his wand like a sword.

She suddenly turned him and pressed him up against the transparent wall. She stepped hard on his foot and her elbow held his arm against the wall, preventing him from using his wand. Before Barty could push her off, he felt the metal clamp around his neck and seal itself with a word from Alyssa.

"What did you do?" he asked as she stepped backwards, looking at the thing she had put around his neck.

"That's to make sure you don't run off." her words sounded pained. "You leave, and a single word from me will cause you terrible pain." her voice cracked. "And, if I choose so, death."

Barty's eyes went wide as she walked back to the transparent wall, muttering a final word. A door off to his left suddenly swung open.

No no no no no no. This was not how it was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be chained up like some animal. He should kill Alyssa now. He should destroy her. He should torture her first. He should rip her heart out and offer it as a sacrifice to Lord Voldermort.

"And," Alyssa continued, noticing the way Barty was eyeing her. "If you kill me, it will automatically kill you too."

He took a step backwards, eyes widening even more. He was her pet.

Suddenly, he turned and ran out the door and into the forest, his leather boots hitting the ground hard. It was dark out, and at this time, the witching hour, most people would be afraid to be out. They would be worried about animals, monsters, or people hiding in the shadows. But Barty didn't care about any of those. He could kill them all with a single word and flick of his wand. He was far worse than all of them put together. He was what people feared when they were alone at night. He was the embodiment of it.

His breathing was loud through the trees and the metal around his neck was cold against his skin.

No no no no no no!

He kept running, keenly aware that Alyssa could utter that single word at any time and he could be done for.

Still, he kept running. He wasn't going to be her chained animal, there to do her bidding. He didn't want to survive his death sentence and escape Azkaban for the second time just for this.

He ran and ran and ran. He ran until his legs burned. He ran until his lungs were begging for air. He ran until his heart felt as if it was going to beat out of his chest. He ran until he could feel his blood pumping through his veins.

Finally, his legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground. His wand rolled away from him and he scrunched into a ball. He screamed loudly and his hands scratched at his neck in a feeble attempt to get the collar off of him. He had gone from one set of chains to another.

He opened his mouth to scream again, but no sound came out. He sucked in air instead, still out of breath from his run. His heart pounded in his ears as his fingers tangled themselves in the cold collar, trying desperately to pry it off.

He screeched in rage, pulling on it as hard as he could.

He crawled forward and grabbed his wand, casting an unlocking spell on the collar.

Nothing happened.

He tried again with a more complicated spell, swishing his wand in exactly the right manner and yelling the correct words.

Still nothing.

She had him.

He crumpled into a ball again, hiding his head in his hands and rocking back and forth, tongue licking the corners of his lips incessantly.

No!

Suddenly, the sound of leaves crunching filled his ears. He growled at the thought of seeing Alyssa again.

But wait... These footsteps were that of someone lighter. Much lighter. And they were definitely human footsteps. A young child, perhaps?

He looked up, and sure enough, coming through the trees, was a young girl. She couldn't have been any more than seven years old. And she looked to be a muggle as well. She had blonde hair done up in braided pigtails, and she looked lost and afraid. Her big green eyes were wide with fear and her face was tear streaked.

"Mummy?" she called out, her high pitched voice painful to Barty's ears.

He raised his head slowly, looking at her fully. The girl gasped when she saw him. He must have been a sight for her eyes. There she was in her pretty little dress and her pampered hair, and there he was, dirty face, disheveled, un-kept hair, threadbare leather coat and heavy boots, complete with a chain going down the sides of them.

"Hello," he said, his lips twisting into a dark smile.


	3. Chapter 3

She took an instinctive step backwards, the fear in her eyes increasing. "Mummy?"

"I'm not your mummy." he said, standing up to his full height.

The girl took another step backwards as he took a step forwards. After a moment, he was running towards her and she was screaming, frozen in fear. He skidded to a stop in front of her, pushing her to the ground and pressing the tip of his wand to her face. The smile still hadn't left his face as he thought about what spell to use to send her to her death.

And then, the sound of more footsteps filled his ears. Heavier ones this time. Alyssa.

No! She wasn't going to hinder his last freedom. He opened his mouth to deliver the killing blow, but another word was shouted into the air first.

"Extrifal!" came Alyssa's voice.

Immediately, pain shot through Barty's body. He let out a yell and dropped his wand. He crumpled into a ball, twitching as the pain flooded his body. He felt as if he was being thrown into a roasting pit to be cooked and eaten as somebody's dinner. Perhaps that somebody was Alyssa, in this case.

He squirmed and screamed in pain, writhing on the ground, leaves getting stuck in his clothes and in his hair.

"Elemus." came a softer spoken word, and the pain ceased. All that was left was the leftover burning sensation, which quickly faded.

Barty continued to lie on the ground, watching as Alyssa glared at him, and then knelt to tend to the girl. Leaving him alone in the leaves. A forgotten animal. Not enough for anybody to bother about. Enough to punish, but not to fuss over, like that pathetic little girl.

Barty reached over and grabbed his wand before Alyssa decided it was hers and hid it in the pocket of his jacket again.

"Don't worry, I'll help you find your mummy," Alyssa's voice came.

Then, "But, w-what 'bout him? Is he going to come?" the little girl's quiet voice spoke.

Alyssa turned to look at Barty, lying on the ground, tongue flicking out of his mouth again. Her eyes were cold, but he held her gaze, unafraid. She was just as pathetic as the little girl she was protecting.

"Don't worry about him." Alyssa said to the girl, although it sounded to Barty as if she was saying it to him. "I won't let him hurt you."

The little girl kept her eyes trained on him, taking Alyssa's hand and stepping behind her legs.

"Get up, we're taking her home before we start." Alyssa said, looking down at Barty.

He jumped to his feet and lunged at her again. "You said I only had to help you find your mum! You never said anything about stopping to pick up strays on the way!" he cried.

Alyssa sidestepped him rather easily, earning a squeal of fright from the little girl. "Barty, you don't have a choice. You're coming with us, and the more you complain, the more you're going to have to do."

Was this what mothers were like? Barty was glad he didn't remember his own. He snarled at Alyssa before she turned to leave, the little girl casting worried glances over her shoulder at him every few seconds.

He followed slowly behind them, head hanging low as he sulked. This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be stuck with this nagging girl. He could kill her in an instant. And if only this dreaded collar weren't on him, he would. He would kill her slowly. He had had enough of her nonsense.

He looked up just as the little girl had turned to look at him for what must have been the millionth time. He gave her a crooked grin and faked a lunge at her. She screamed, diving in front of Alyssa's legs and causing him to chuckle.

Alyssa tripped, tried to catch herself, and then fell down to the ground, taking the girl with her. Barty laughed louder, adding to the unsettling feeling of the shadowy forest.

"Don't do that!" Alyssa shouted, getting to her feet and helping the girl up as well.

He gave her a smirk, chuckling some more. His tongue darted between his lips again and she glared at him. "Come walk up here, next to me." she said firmly.

He opened his mouth to retort, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him next to her. "Stay there." she said, holding her hand up as if she was talking to a dog.

Barty momentarily thought about killing her anyways, whether or not he would die, and then sulked again as he walked beside her. His steps were wobbly at times, as he purposefully bumped hard into Alyssa, hoping to cause her to stumble again. He felt the little girl's wide eyes on him most times, apparently trying to understand how one man could be so scary. She seemed well taken care of and pampered, so Barty must have definitely been a sight she wouldn't forget. He smiled at the thought of his face haunting her dreams into her adulthood. He would always be the only man scarier than the forest at nighttime.

"Barty, stay on the path." Came Alyssa's voice.

He tried to change his steps, but at the wrong time. He ran smack into a tree. He let out a steady stream of curses, reaching up to grab his nose. He heard a chuckle, and he couldn't tell if it came from Alyssa or the little girl.

His head shot up, eyes blazing, and he jumped at the girl. He yanked out his wand again, small green sparks falling from the tip of it just from his touch.

"Barty!" Alyssa shrieked, and an instant later, he felt something hard hit him from the side.

The air in his lungs left immediately and he hit the ground hard. Alyssa rolled on the ground next to him, bumping him from the side. He jerked his head up again, his brown hair getting into face as his eyes, so used to the dark, scanned for the little girl or Alyssa.

Suddenly, he felt something hard hit his jaw, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He collapsed as the welcoming blackness overtook him, and he lost consciousness.

What felt like an instant later, he was blinking his eyes open into the bright, dreaded sunlight. He moaned and rolled over, only to hit his already sore nose on the root of a tree.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." came Alyssa's voice off to his left.

Barty glared up at her, his eyes burning from the awful light. The forest looked much different during the day. It was colored with reds and golds, marking autumn, and the welcome cover of the shadows was gone. The sound of birdsong filled the air, and flowers were blooming all over the place. And the smell of cooked squirrel filled his nostrils. That was the only thing he didn't mind right now.

"So I took Jessie back to her mum." Alyssa continued, roasting the squirrel on a stick over the crackling fire in front of her. "She was much better after I said you'd stay here. Makes sense, since you tried to kill her. Twice." she said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at him.

He ignored her and walked over to where she was cooking, sitting hungrily by the fire, his stomach rumbling. Apparently all those ingredients from the day before hadn't been enough.

The squirrel suddenly caught fire and Alyssa's eyes widened. "Ah!" she cried, yanking it out of the fire and blowing on it hard.

She managed to put it out before it burned, and then she opened it up to make sure it was cooked thoroughly. Although Barty didn't care. He would have eaten it raw.

"Alright, here you go." she said as she gingerly ripped off a piece. She practically threw it at him so she didn't burn her fingers. "Careful, it's ho-"

Like he didn't know that. She hadn't finished her sentence before half of the squirrel had disappeared down his gullet.

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Never mind."

He inhaled the rest of his squirrel, which was enough to fill him up, at least, for now. Alyssa was much slower. She obviously wasn't used to only getting a bit of bread and water a day, having to survive on that. Barty's instincts told him that he didn't know when his next meal would be, so he needed to eat as much as he could as fast as he could, so no one else could get to it. In his life, sometimes that was something you needed to be worried about.

After what felt like hours, Alyssa finished. "Alright, are you ready to go?"

"You realize what time it is, right?" Barty asked, looking up at the sky.

"Yeah, it's about eleven."

"I don't want to go anywhere right now. It's too early."

"This is when most people travel."

"I'm not most people! I travel at night. It's easier."

"No it's not." she retorted.

"Yes, it is! I don't work in the light! I work in the shadows, not this awful ball of fire." he cried, his eyes burning.

She stood up, kicking dirt over the coals of her fire. "Well then, you can walk underneath the trees. There's plenty of shadows there."

"Ahhgh!" he cried, falling backwards so he was lying on his back.

She started walking in the opposite direction, picking up a bag of supplies she had gotten from who-knows-where. Barty stayed where he was, silently refusing to follow her. Not until the moon and stars came out, at least.

"Come on, Barty," came Alyssa's voice.

He didn't move.

"Barty, we're leaving now."

Still, he stayed where he was.

She stomped back over to him. She kicked him lightly in the side, causing a small grunt to leave his lips. Of course, to anybody, it would have looked that Barty was more comfortable in the shadows. His disheveled brown hair and dark, piercing eyes gave that away without his clothes and snake-like tongue that refused to stay in his mouth.

She hoisted the bag over her shoulder. "If you don't get up, you're carrying the bag." she said.

He stayed as still as a statue.

Finally, she bent down, grabbed his arm in both of her hands, and hauled him up. "Ahh!" he cried, losing his balance as she let out a moan of effort, and finally got him to his feet.

"Now, you're carrying this." she said, picking up the bag and putting the strap over his shoulder.

He nearly fell over at the unexpected weight. Alyssa had already turned and left, though, not looking back to see if he was following. He rolled his eyes, adjusted the strap over his shoulder, and stomped after her, his boots hitting the leafy ground loudly.

He stayed a good ten feet behind her, purposefully walking slow. And even though he was trying to annoy her to death, he was actually more tired during the day. Once, he had been mistaken for a vampire because he was stumbling so much in the sunlight that he collapsed onto a bench and dozed off, and then was running around, casting spells, and causing general havoc as soon the night settled in.

And that was true now, too. He yawned, nearly losing his balance again. The bag fell of his shoulder and he dragged it behind him, his head hanging low again. Alyssa seemed full of energy and fine, skipping ahead of him for a time before falling back to where he was and matching her steps to his.

"My you walk slow." she commented.

He glared at her, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Are you tired?"

He ignored her again.

"Do you want to stop for a moment?"

He grit his teeth, gripping the handle of the bag tighter.

"We can take a break, if you like. Would you like that?"

Suddenly, he brought the bag up and swung it around, hitting her square in the face. "Shut up!" he screamed.

Alyssa fell to the ground, and Barty took this chance to run over to a tree and lay down between the roots again. He shut his eyes before Alyssa could get up, and pretended to be asleep.

He heard her angry stomps come over to him and kick him in the side again. He rolled over but didn't get up. He was going to sleep this time, and she wasn't going to stop him.

He heard her sigh deeply, and then she sat down hard on the ground, leaning up against the same tree he was laying in the roots of. He laid still for a long time. He was tired, but couldn't get to sleep. He wasn't going to tell Alyssa that, though. She'd just make him get up and keep walking.

And to erase any doubt of her getting him up, he slowed his breathing so it looked like he was sleeping, moving ever so slightly every once in awhile, like sleeping people did. He could hear Alyssa a few feet away from him, still awake.

Apparenlty, she definitely thought he was asleep, because she started talking to herself. Or maybe it was... to him?

"You're terrible, Barty. Awful."

Yup, definitely to him.

"I don't know why I rescued you."

My, wasn't she nice.

"But I need to save my mum. I don't know where she is. Well, yes I do. She's in the ruins. The ones in the North. It's only about ten miles from here. But I don't know where in the ruins."

So that's where they were going. At least it'd be dark in there.

Alyssa sighed. "That's where she was when she contacted me. But I heard there's Death Eaters in there. Awful people. They might be guarding her."

There were Death Eaters in there, and maybe they could help him get rid of her. But... his collar. Well, maybe they could help him with that. Or help her get her mum, have her take the collar off, and then he could kill her. That sounded like a good plan.

"You know, a long time ago, I swore to kill all Death Eaters I came across. But there's so many in those ruins, I don't think I could get them all. Not without them killing me first."

Barty's heart seemed to skip a beat. She didn't know he was one. She hadn't seen the mark on his arm. She didn't know he was a Death Eater. She knew he followed Lord Voldermort, but she didn't know how close of a follower he was. He should be happy about that, though. That was but another weapon he could use against her. If he said it at the right moment, it could startle her and overwhelm her so much, she would be extremely weak, and he could finish her. He just had to do it when this confounded collar was off of him.

"I hope I made the right choice in rescuing you, Barty. You have an extremely large bounty on your head. They'll be looking for you. Possibly with a Dementor."

There was a pause, and Barty thought about telling to shut up so he could try to sleep, but thought better of it.

"And I don't want you running around terrorizing people after we finish." He thought again about telling her to shut up.

"You'll get yourself killed, one way or another."

He was surprised yet again. She didn't say anything about him killing other people (which he no doubt would do if he was terrorzing a group of people), but she instead seemed to be worried about him dying. Nobody had ever been worried about his safety before.

There was another sigh from Alyssa. "Oh, I'm going to wake you up." there was a pause, and then, Barty felt fingers in his hair, brushing strands of it out of his face. "Sleep well, you nocturnal creature." her voice came again, quiet this time.

And then, suddenly, he felt something else on his forehead. Something warm. Were those... Lips?

Yes, they most definitely were. Alyssa kissed him on the forehead, and that was the last he heard from her. His heart was beating into his throat, and he had no idea why. Perhaps he should have told her to shut up if it would have prevented that from happening.

Eventually, Barty slipped into sleep, losing touch with reality for a precious few hours, recharging his body, before his eyes blinked open. This time, the dreaded sunlight didn't scorch his eyes. The soothing light of the moon shone down through the trees and Barty jerked up.

Alyssa was sleeping, slumped against the tree. This was his chance. He could run away, and she would never know where he was. Killing him or hurting him would do her no good, so she probably wouldn't do it. He could escape.

He jumped to his feet as quietly as possible. But Alyssa chose that moment to wake up. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. He cursed under his breath.

She yawned and sat up straighter. "Sleep well?" she asked.

"I slept fine." he snapped, bouncing back from one foot to the other. "Come on, get up, let's get this over with."

She frowned and slowed her getting up even more so.

"Aghh! Come on, don't you want to save your mum?" he cried.

"I do, but maybe you should get a taste of what it's like to wait." she said, stretching slowly.

He threw his head back and growled in exasperation. "I know what it's like to wait! What do you think I did in Azkaban all those years?" he cried.

"Apparently not learn any patience." she said, picking up the supply bag. "Hungry? I have fruit leathers."

Before he could reply, saying he hated fruit leathers, she thrust one into his hand.

"Eat it and we're leaving." she said firmly.

He huffed and took a big bite of the sticky, disgusting food. Alyssa ate one too, but seemed to be enjoying hers much more than Barty was enjoying his.

As soon as he swallowed the last bit of it, Alyssa turned and began walking down the moonlit path they had been on. Barty ran ahead of her this time, antsy to get this journey over with. He spun around a few times, apparently full of energy. He pulled out his wand, casting a few spells here and there, much to Alyssa's dislike.

He turned a squirrel into a ferret, a rabbit also into a ferret (what could he say? He like ferrets), and a snake into a... Well, he left that one. He didn't mind snakes.

They walked for what felt like hours, and Barty tired of casting spells on the helpless wildlife, as entertaining as it was. He still walked ahead of Alyssa though, not wanting to have to talk to her. His tongue flicked out of his mouth as he wondered how many miles they had walked.

Suddenly, Alyssa's voice came. "Barty, come here." she called over to him.

Mumbling something to himself about 'yes Mum' and 'I don't have to do what you say', he walked slowly back over to her.

"What?" he snapped.

"We're going to come into a town soon, and I don't want you causing trouble." she said, sounding even more like a mum.

"Why? Afraid to look like a trouble maker?" he asked, giving her a twisted smile.

"Yes, actually. I don't want to be thrown into Azkaban because I was found with Barty Crouch Junior terrorizing muggles." she said pointedly. "So keep yourself in line, got it?"

He ignored her question. "It's a muggle city?" he groaned, turning to walk backwards so he could still face her.

"Yes, so no magic."

"But muggles are so boring!" he complained.

"Yes, they are. I don't know what to tell you. But I'm stopping at the inn to rest my feet for a bit and maybe get a drink."

He gave her another of his dark smiles. "You're just afraid of the dark."

She glared at him. "I am not."

He laughed, lightly at first, and then threw his head back, laughing harder. He looked back to her, tongue flicking in and out of his mouth. "You're scared of what might be lurking behind the trees." He discreetly pulled out his wand. "What could it be? Maybe a-" he flicked his wand, whispering a single word, and he disappeared, reappearing behind her. "Death Eater?"

She jumped as she felt his hot breath in her ear. "Knock it off! What are you, twelve?" she cried.

He laughed again, waving his wand around, little green sparks following its tip. "You are fun to scare, Alyssa."

Suddenly, she grinned. He frowned in return, mildly upset that she didn't seem scared anymore.

"What?" he asked.

"You used my name." she said, that big, silly grin still dancing across her lips.

He raised an eyebrow, not sure why that meant she was smiling like that, but immediately remembered her kiss on his forehead last night. He shivered. The sooner he got away from her, the better.

"Remind me not to do that again." he commented.

She ignored him. "Okay, the town is just up here. Put your wand away and try not to glare at anybody too much."

With a loud sigh, he put his wand back into the pocket of his jacket and trudged behind her, feeling the ground beneath his feet slowly change to a hardened, packed together road. But instead of tire tracks, like he would have expected from a normal muggle town, there were horse tracks.

He looked up and saw that the city looked rather medieval for the time it was everywhere else. These were really muggles? They didn't look it.

He shrugged it off and followed behind Alyssa, making a point to glare at everyone he passed simply because she had said not to.

Although there weren't many people around at this time of night. But the ones who were, were thoroughly unsettled by his piercing stare. A few even rushed back inside, causing him to chuckle quietly.

Finally, Alyssa stopped in front of an inn, looking a bit worried. Was something wrong? Why should she be worried? They were only pathetic muggles. "Alright, act normal in here, okay?" she said firmly.

He sneered at her, grunting his understanding.

"Oh, and stop glaring at people. I thought I told you not to do that?"

How did she know he was glaring at people?

She turned around again and opened the door, sounding a bell off somewhere inside. People were sitting at tables, talking and laughing, sharing drinks and listening to a bard sing off to the side. Barty glanced around, taking in his surroundings and noting all the exits and ways he could escape if the need came up. He also noted how easy it would be to simply blow this place up. That wouldn't be too hard.

"Alright, I'm going to grab a drink. Do you want anything?" Alyssa asked.

Barty opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when he saw her face. She was looking past him and at the door behind him. "What?" he asked, watching as the blood visibly drained from her face.

That's when he noticed the talking had stopped. So had the music. The entire inn was dead silent. His wand suddenly felt heavy in his pocket, pressing against his chest.

Barty turned around to see what Alyssa was staring at. There was only a few simple slips of paper. But the pictures on the paper were moving. That didn't surprise him, pictures were supposed to move. Although, they were supposed to be in a muggle town, too. And then his eyes fell on the top paper.

It had been issued today, and it was a wanted poster. And the picture showed him, laughing in the maniacal way that he did, and his name, Barty Crouch Junior below it. And normally, he would have gotten excited over how much they were offering for his capture (it was quite a lot), but he was realizing that he was in an inn full of witches and wizards, who apparently were just realizing that Barty was in the same room with them.

Suddenly, a scream sounded throughout the inn. Then the chaos started. Most people started running around in terror, screaming something about You-Know-Who and how they were all going to die, a few fainted on the spot, and even fewer brandished wands and started advancing towards him.

He grabbed his own wand and held it up. Alyssa dropped her bag and grabbed his arm. "No, you're not going to do that," she said hurriedly, kicking open the door and dragging him back outside.

Then, she broke into a run, still holding onto his arm. He pulled his arm away from her and turned, wanting to face his enemies. He wanted to show them what he could do. He raised his wand.

A man was running towards him, holding his own wand out in front of him, apparently extremely confident he would win this fight. Fool.

"Barty!" screamed Alyssa.

Too late. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Reducto!" Barty shouted.

A blast like no other left his wand, sending the wizard in front of him flying backwards so high he landed on top of a roof, unmoving.

He turned and saw another one, a witch this time, screaming some sort of battle cry as she rushed at him. With a simple flick of his wand in the precisely right way, he yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" and the witch fell to the ground, unable to move.

"That's enough!" Alyssa shouted, appearing right in front of him.

He gritted his teeth, momentarily thinking about turning her to stone or something, before she grabbed his arm and pulled him with such force that he lost his balance and had to stumble after her.

Then she ran, and he ran beside her, giving up on his fantasy of blowing up the town behind them. "Come on!" Alyssa cried as they ran deeper into the trees, the comforting shadows engulfing them.

They ran and ran and ran. They ran until the screams of the people behind couldn't be heard anymore, and even then, Alyssa suddenly changed course, grabbing Barty and diving behind a rather large tree. She held her fingers to her lips and then slowly peered out from behind the trunk.

They must have stood there for ten minutes before Alyssa finally decided it was safe. She motioned for Barty to follow her, and he did so reluctantly.

"They've all gone, you can stop sneaking aroun-" he began.

But she cut him off with a sharp "Shh!" and holding a finger up to quiet him.

He rolled his eyes, slumping his shoulders and sulked behind her. This was ridiculous.

"I could tap dance and nobody would come find us. People don't go into the forest at night." he said, ignoring her angry stare for him talking again.

"You do!" she hissed.

"Precisely because nobody else is out!" he retorted. "Besides, the night is so much better than your beloved day time."

"You're really weird, Barty." she said, finally standing up straight, apparently convincing herself nobody else was around.

She turned and walked off. "How much longer?" Barty asked, catching up with her.

"A few more miles. Maybe, four?" she replied. "We'll have to get some rest soon, though."

"I'm hungry. That awful fruit thingy wasn't near enough." he said in an annoyed manner.

Alyssa suddenly stopped. "I left the bag of supplies at the inn."

"Good job."

"That was at least four more days worth of food!"

"Well if you'd like to go back and get it-"

"Shut up!" she cried.

He grinned, partly glad that he had annoyed her. But she seemed really upset.

"Just hunt another squirrel." he said, shrugging.

She gave a sarcastic laugh. "It's not that easy. Have you ever tried hunting a squirrel?"

Barty pulled out his wand and crept forward, looking around. Where would squirrels live? In their trees, of course. He looked up, his nocturnal eyes picking out living, breathing shapes amongst the trees. Most of them were birds, though. Then, he saw a little hole in the side of a tree. He crept around the side of the trunk and knocked gently on the side of it with his wand.

The air was immediately filled with frantic squeaking as every squirrel in its home woke up, scrambling to escape whatever had made that knocking noise.

In its rush to escape, one of them ran out of the little hole and down the side of the tree. Barty raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra," he said quietly, and the squirrel immediately fell dead.

He looked back up at Alyssa, shrugging. "Not that hard to me." he said simply.

Her mouth was hanging open. Immediately, her look changed from one of shock to one of anger. She stormed over to him, her loud footsteps causing more of the squirrels to squeak in fear.

"You used the killing curse!" she cried.

"So?"

"So, that's an unforgivable curse! Barty, you already used one of them, this is two so far that you've used!"

He suddenly turned and pushed her up against the tree, the squirrels squeaking even louder. He pressed his wand to the tip of her nose and he could see her shaking with fear.

"I don't know what they teach you at whatever school you go to. I'm guessing you went to Hogwarts, since that seems to be where every stinking young witch and wizard goes nowadays." he spat the words out like they were some sort of poison. "But out here, with me, we're not quite as soft." he leaned forward even more, so close that their noses were almost touching. "Out here, we don't shy away from dark magic. We don't shy away from power like they do in your pathetic schools." his tongue flicked out of his mouth uncontrollably. "Your schools, where you sit behind a desk and read all day, never actually learning how to do a real spell, and when you do, you're taught to avoid certain spells because they're 'too powerful' or 'too dark'. Well, guess what Alyssa? That doesn't matter out here!" he said, his voice getting quieter and quieter, but darker and darker.

His tongue shot out between his lips again, and he was starting to look like a snake. His eyes were wide as he slowly backed away from her. Then, he turned on his heel, walking away from her in the general direction of where they were supposed to go.

He didn't bother to turn and see if she was following. He knew she would be. And, as if on cue, footsteps echoed behind him as she ran to catch up. And, as he looked down, he saw the dead squirrel in her hands.

"Where do you want to stop?" she squeaked.

"Up here." he nodded towards a little clearing he had spotted.

When they got there, she started a fire, blowing sparks off of her finger tips, and began to cook the squirrel while Barty lay down on the ground, crossing his arms behind his head and staring up at the night sky. It was slowly getting lighter, signifying dawn. That was when he'd fall asleep again. But first, some dinner was in order.

About ten minutes later, the squirrel was done. Or at least, Barty was done waiting. He grabbed it off the makeshift spit Alyssa had made and devoured half of it before she managed to snatch it from him.

"Hey! Save some for me!" she cried, narrowing her eyes at him.

He ignored her and lay back down again, stretching and yawning. Time for a good day's rest. He closed his eyes, adjusting his position ever so slightly.

A moment later, he sat up, kicked his thick leather boots off, and then lay back down again, enjoying the heat of the fire on his feet. He let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, and waited to fall asleep again. The last thing he remembered before dozing off completely was feeling the heat of the rising sun on his face, and he was glad he was falling asleep so he could wake up to the moon instead.

He had another dreamless sleep, like all of his days were anymore. And soon enough, he felt hands shaking him awake. He let out a groan, and then suddenly jerked upwards, wand out and threatening to poke Alyssa's eye out with it.

"Hey, watch it." she scolded, pushing his wand away with two fingers.

He harrumphed at her and put it back into his pocket, standing up, the grass tickling his bare feet. He put his boots back on, zipping them up properly and making sure the buckles weren't undone.

"I've been ready to go for the last hour and a half, and you were still sleeping." she said.

"You're certainly naggy today." Barty commented, shrugging his heavy jacket on more comfortably and cracking his neck rather painfully.

Alyssa flinched. "Could you not do that?"

Just to bother her, he continued to do it, popping his neck more until it couldn't be popped anymore.

She sighed loudly. "Alright, just come on."

She turned, walking away from him. He followed behind, getting his wand out of his pocket again and absentmindedly began fiddling with it, twirling it between his calloused fingers.

"We should get there tonight." Alyssa said suddenly. "It's only a few miles away."

"The ruins, you mean?" Barty asked, before realizing what he said.

She stopped in her tracks. "How did you know that's where we're going?"

"Uhh..."

She turned to face him, the first expression looking like anger. "Did you put her there?" she cried.

"No!" he shouted. "Why on Earth would I do that? I don't do mundane tasks like that." he huffed.

Suddenly, the blood drained from her face. "Oh... You heard me, didn't you?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's not like you were talking quietly."

"You were awake the whole time." she said, her voice getting gradually quieter.

He decided it would be best not to say anything at this point, and started walking again.

But Alyssa seemed to have been stunned for good. It was as if Barty had petrified her or something.

"How much did you hear?" she asked, her voice now quiet but frantic.

"The whole thing." he replied, not looking back.

He was sure he heard her choke behind him. Then her hurried footsteps came until she was right next to him.

"I-I'm sorry." she stammered. "I wasn't thinking. I just, I couldn't help it. You were just laying there, and you looked like you needed it, and I-"

Suddenly, he stopped, turning to her. He was getting sick of her mindless babbling. He bent down so that he almost cracked foreheads with her.

"I don't care. I don't care what you said or what you did, I just want to get this whole ridiculous thing over with so I get this, thing," he angrily tugged on the metal circlet around his neck. "Off me, so I'm not chained up like some dog to do your tricks." he spat. "I don't care." he said again. "Have you got that?"

Alyssa looked surprised for a moment. Barty's tongue flicked out of his mouth again. Why did it do that? Neither of them knew, but Barty had given up a long time ago trying to make it stop. Besides, it scared people sometimes, so it could be useful. But it only seemed to happen when he was excited or angry, or something like that. Not when he was just walking along.

Alyssa nodded, looking down at the ground as her cheeks turned scarlet. Barty ignored her and turned, beginning his walk again. He was determined to get to those ruins tonight. He shoved all thoughts of Alyssa away and focused on his walk.

Alyssa stayed quiet for a long time. In fact, she didn't make a sound the entire night. It was quiet, and Barty could hear everything for miles around. The owl in the tree off to his left (he hoped it wasn't a Hogwarts or Azkaban owl), the snake slithering across the path a few yards in ahead of him, the scurrying of a helpless field mouse in the leaves as it searched for food, everything.

And so he could hear when they finally approached the ruins. He could hear the faint talking five hundred or so feet away. He put out a hand to stop Alyssa. "We're here." he whispered.

She looked up. "I don't see anything."

He frowned at her. "Listen."

He could hear it. His own heartbeat and Alyssa's uncontrolled breathing were the only things louder than the voices he heard ahead of them.

"I don't hear anything either." she said. "Are you sure you're not just... Hearing things?"

He grabbed her shoulders, looking at her angrily. He drug her closer to the fortress, not wanting to get too close. "Now do you hear it?" he hissed, his tongue flicking between his lips.

Alyssa paused, and then, she looked up at him. "I do hear them," she whispered.

"Good. Now, are we going in or not?"

"No, I'm tired and need another squirrel. We'll go tomorrow night."

Barty nearly screamed. He wanted to be rid of Alyssa, and she seemed to be doing everything in her power to keep him around longer.

"We're not having squirrel." he snapped, getting his wand out again and turning to trudge noisily into the bushes.

Alyssa watched him go, shrugged, and turned to walk to a little clearing a little ways away and began to kick sticks out of it.

Barty kicked through the bushes loudly, his eyes darting back and forth for any sign of life. He whispered a single word and suddenly, the forest was alive. The charm he cast helped him to see any form of life, and they were all over the place.

If he turned in Alyssa's direction, she was lit up like a Christmas tree in the middle of an Azkaban cell. And he could hear all the heart beats of every life form. Alyssa's beat loud in his ears, and as he looked away, the field mice's fast little hearts overtook his ears. He turned and looked back in the direction of the ruins, and at least ten individual heart beats echoed in his ears. They all were lit up so well in his vision. If any of the guards there were using this spell, than Alyssa and Barty had surely been spotted.

Barty turned his attention back to getting some dinner, and continued to walk through the undergrowth until he spotted a rabbit picking some seeds out of the ground.

"Avada Kedavra," he said quietly, and the rabbit fell dead.

He stuck his wand into his pocket as the light of life he saw faded from the rabbit's body. He picked it up and trudged back to where Alyssa was. He tossed it to her feet, sitting down hard on the ground.

She frowned at him, knowing he had used the killing curse again as there wasn't a single mark on the creature. Barty ignored her and leaned back against a tree.

Alyssa raised her hand and flicked her wrist precisely, causing a sudden burst of fog to roll out of the hills and cover them. "What's this for?" Barty asked, looking around.

"So we can cook this. Don't want to be seen because of our fire now, do we?" she replied.

He should have known that. Whatever. He shrugged it off, peering through the thick fog as she cooked the rabbit over her fire. Eventually, he was eating half of the rabbit (the bigger half) and Alyssa the other.

"Alright, we're going in tomorrow." she said, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. "Any ideas on how to get in?"

Barty yawned, just wanting to go to sleep, but thinking about her question. How were they to get in?

"You could be my prisoner." he said.

"No, that wouldn't work." she told him.

"Why not? I thought you thought this through. Isn't there a reason you picked me?"

"Of course there's a reason!" she cried.

"Then what is it?"

"That's for me to know, not you."

He laughed. "You don't know. You just chose me at random."

"I did not! Now, stop arguing with me and help me think of a way to get in."

"I already did. You could be my prisoner. But you don't seem to like that idea." he adjusted his postition, getting more comfortable.

"I don't like it because it won't work."

"Why won't it?"

She glared at him like it should be obvious. "You have to be a Death Eater to even get in there."

He smirked at her.

It took her much too long to figure it out.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. She stumbled backwards, falling to the ground as Barty wriggled into a more comfortable position.

"No..." she said quietly.

"Oh yes." he said, still giving her his crooked smile.

She walked slowly over to him and then grabbed his arm, fumbling with his shirt sleeve. A moment later, she had it pulled up and turned his arm over to look at the mark on his skin.

He watched as the original fear of him increased even more. She dropped  
his arm and backed away again. "None of my sources said you were a

Death Eater." she breathed.

"You should get to know your sources better." he snapped, pulling his sleeve back down before the chilled fall air could seep under his jacket.

"I swore to kill all Death Eaters." she said, her voice suddenly changing from fear and surprise to rage.

Barty stiffened and pulled out his wand. "I'll take you with me," he said, pointing his wand at her.

She stopped. She knew he would, that shown clearly enough on her face. But what Barty couldn't tell was whether she'd kill him anyways. His fingers coursed with power as he held his wand, waiting for her to make the first move (or rather, the wrong move), and send them both to their deaths.

But instead, she rocked backwards, pulling her knees to her chest. Her shoulders shook with the sudden on come of tears and Barty watched as she buried her face into her knees.

And normally, he would have been happy at the effect he had had on her. He might have even laughed. But at that moment, he felt something else. He wasn't sure what it was, but it went away when he looked away from her. So he did just that. Whatever that feeling was, he wasn't alright with it.

Eventually, he dozed off, Alyssa's sobs echoing in his ears. But this time, his sleep wasn't quite so peaceful. This time, his usually empty sleep was overrun with dreams. No, not dreams. Nightmares.

He watched in his dreams as Alyssa killed him over and over again, muttering that one word that was different every time, sending the collar into its final mode, killing him in so many different ways.

First, it stopped his heart, causing terrible pain in his chest. Then it filled his lungs with water, drowning him. Then it electrocuted him. It burned him to a crisp. It froze him to death. It buried him alive. It made him commit suicide, no matter his screaming to stop. It did so many things, and every time, Alyssa would be standing over him, muttering about how she hated all Death Eaters.

Finally, he jerked awake, sweating and breathing heavily. He grunted, the fear from his dream still in control. He fumbled for his wand, pulling it out of his jacket and holding it up, eye scanning the dark land around him. Alyssa was nowhere to be seen.

He scrambled to his feet. The fire had been put out and wasn't even smoldering now. The fog had cleared and he could hear the quiet voices from the nearby ruins.

"Alyssa!" he hissed, wanting to know where she was. Was she planning on springing a surprise attack on him?

A moment later, Alyssa's dark red hair popped out from behind a tree and she looked at him. "Oh, you're awake finally." she said.

Obviously she wasn't used to the nocturnal life yet. Barty adjusted the way his jacket fell across his shoulders and slowly put his wand back into his pocket.

"Sleep well?" she didn't wait for an answer. "I hope so, because we're going to sneak into a ruin now."


	5. Chapter 5

She held out her hands to him. He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised. "What?" he asked, looking slightly confused.

"Come on, this was your idea! I'm your prisoner."

"I thought you didn't like that idea."

"Actually, I hate it. Now hurry it up!"

He pulled his wand back out and muttered a word, flicking it above her wrists. An instant later, shining black cuffs of pure magic were gripping her hands together. She made a face. "I trust you'll take these off,"

He grinned at her, giving her a look that didn't give her any comfort whatsoever. "Alright, come on then." he said, grabbing her shoulders and positioning her in front of him. "Walk!" he cried, falling into the part of playing her captive a little too well.

He jabbed his wand into her back and she stumbled forwards, out into the open. They walked towards the ruins of the old fort slowly turning heads as they neared in a less-than-quiet manner. After awhile, Barty tired of poking her back with his wand, and instead grabbed her arm, dragging her along beside him. Much better.

When he approached the door, a voice boomed out above them.

"Who goes there?" cried one of his fellow Death Eaters.

"Oh, I think you know very well who I am." Barty shouted in response.

Recognizing his voice, the Death Eater took a startled step backwards. "Barty Crouch Junior?" came the reply.

"Welcome me home, brother!"

The gate immediately started to open, opened by a spell cast from the gate guard. As soon as he stepped over the border and into the ruins, he was met with cheers and people slapping him on the back. He may not have killed Harry Potter, but that would have just been a bonus. He had managed to bring that wretched child to Voldermort himself to revive him. He had completed his task with more than just an aptitude.

"But you were sent back to Azkaban!" one voice cried.

"You were sentenced to death! By a Dementor!" another one shouted.

"You escaped again?" yet another one tried to get his question in.

Barty spread his arms, smiling at the welcome he was getting. "Do you think I didn't escape?"

Laughs echoed around him. It was obvious he had escaped. They would never have let him go, not after what he had done.

"Azkaban cannot hold me!" Barty screamed, hitting his chest and feeling his tongue dart out of his lips again. "Sirius Black was the first to escape, but could he have escaped twice?"

He heard a grunt of disapproval come from Alyssa's direction, but he ignored her. Cheers sounded again, until somebody spoke again. "Who's that?"

Barty turned to Alyssa. Finally, his revenge had come. "This? A pathetic girl to be put with her mother. A sacrifice for the Dark Lord." he pushed her to the ground, giving a twisted grin.

The group around him laughed again. "You escaped and brought a sacrifice with you?" a voice called out. "You're destined for greatness, Crouch."

Barty nodded in the direction of the voice. "Now, is there a cell I can place her in?"

"There happens to be an open one next to her mother. Or, what's left of her." a guard stepped forward, chuckling at the thought of Alyssa's mother.

Barty cast a quick glance down to Alyssa. Her face was pale, which added to the scene. Although he didn't know if it was because she was surrounded by so many Death Eaters, or because the guard just said that her mother wasn't well. Or maybe it was both. He didn't much care. He just wanted to get her to her mother so he could get out of there. Even if her mum was hurt, it wasn't his fault, and he had kept his end of the bargain. He was to be set free tonight.

"That'll do nicely." Barty replied. He bent down and grabbed Alyssa's shoulder roughly. "Just point me in the direction."

"Straight through that door, down the hallway, first right is a group of cells. Her mum is the only one left. Sort of." the guard paused. "And you should grab yourself something to eat. I bet you've had a long journey. Maybe rest up a bit."

Barty nodded his thanks and drug Alyssa into the door, somehow managing to duck away from all the other Death Eaters around. As soon as they were alone, Alyssa freaked.

"What did he mean, 'what's left of her'?" she demanded. "Is she alright?" she squirmed in his grasp. "What did your kind do to her?"

"Shut up, I brought you to her, didn't I?" Barty growled. "I never promised her in one piece! It's not my fault if she's hurt, or worse."

Alyssa's mouth dropped open. Suddenly, her feet seemed to stop working. She rooted to the spot, stopping Barty in his tracks. "Do you even hear what you're saying?" she cried.

"Yes! I'm speaking the truth." he cried.

She ignored him. "You don't even care if she's alright or not? Not even in the slightest?"

He feigned thinking about it for a moment. "Nope, not really!" he concluded, grabbing her arm in an attempt to pull her farther.

She sidestepped him. "What are you? You're not human!" she shouted.

Barty stopped in his tracks. He was a lot of things. Death Eater, wizard, things like that. There were a lot of things he wasn't, too. He wasn't full of empathy, he wasn't a weakling, but one thing he was, was human. At the bottom of it all, he was human. He had a beating heart, a pair of working lungs, a mind that formed thoughts, and everything that made someone a human. Right?

And for once in his life, he couldn't think of anything to say to that. He couldn't step forward with some brilliant comeback, or simply blow up in her face. He couldn't think of a single thing to do. He was lost for words.

His tongue escaped his lips as it flicked about like a snakes. So instead of saying anything, he grabbed her arm and drug her along the floor, her struggling and kicking useless. "Put me down!" she shrieked.

He continued walking, following the guard's directions until he came to a group of cells. He thrust his hand forward, throwing her out in front of him. She stumbled a bit before regaining her balance. Barty stayed where he was, his dark eyes trained on her, intent on her every move as his tongue flicked again.

Alyssa crept forward ever so slowly, and Barty found his heart beating a bit faster as the tension in the room increased considerably.

"Mum?" Alyssa's quiet voice came.

There was no reply. The only sound after that was a sudden gasp of breath and a broken sob. Alyssa lost her balance and collapsed to the ground. Her shoulders shook violently as tears streaked down her face.

Barty walked forward slowly, hesitantly. There, in the cell directly in front of her, he saw the crumpled body of a woman with the same red hair as Alyssa. It was obvious that she was dead.

He should have been happy. He had brought this dreadful girl back to her mum. He had held up his part of the bargain. Alyssa had to free him now. But, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he should be smiling right now, he couldn't. Something was aching in his chest, and he didn't know what it was. And this time, when he looked away, the feeling still followed him. He didn't like it. The feeling hurt.

Numbly, Barty took his wand out of his pocket, flicked it, and muttered the counter spell to unlock the cuffs around Alyssa's wrists. They melted off her and disappeared into thin air. She didn't move at all, still giving cracked sobs.

"Alyssa," came Barty's quiet voice.

"It was you!" Alyssa suddenly shrieked, jumping to her feet and turning to face him. "You're devilish kind killed her! You Death Eaters and your master killed my mum! You killed my entire family! I should have left you to die in Azkaban!"

Without thinking, Barty stepped forward. But not to scream in her face. Not to cast a spell to make her stop yelling. No. He did something he would have never done. Never.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Alyssa gasped as she felt his leather jacketed arms press against her. He had no idea what he was doing. Why was he doing this? He was confused beyond belief, but he still didn't pull away.

He continued to hold her, pressing her against his chest. He felt her bury her face into his shirt and then heard sobs again. Her shoulders shook between his arms and she cried and cried. Barty rested his chin on the top of her head, but said nothing, and made no other movements. He just let her cry.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, she gently pulled away. Thankful to have an excuse to let go of her, he backed away as well, still a bit confused with himself.

Alyssa looked up at him, eyes wide. "Barty?"

He glared down at her, the pain in his chest increasing. Was she the reason for it?

She sniffed. "Oh, I suppose I owe you now." she squeaked.

He continued to glare at her, his brown eyes boring holes into her skull. She met eyes with him again, like she was looking for something in them, and then looked away. She reached up and pressed two fingers to the cold metal of the collar around his neck. "Elesxa." she whispered, and the collar fell off into her hands.

Barty immediately felt a rush of freedom. He could leave. He was absolutely, completely free again. He could go terrorize that pathetic town a few miles away. He could kill Alyssa like he had been wanting too. He could go and find Lord Voldermort. In fact, he could actually bring Alyssa with him as an actual sacrifice, like he had lied in the first place. That would certainly please the Dark Lord.

An overwhelming urge to prove himself flooded through him like it did whenever he was out of Azkaban and free to do what he liked. He raised his wand, the thought of the killing curse rolling off his tongue and watching Alyssa's limp body fall to the ground encouraging him to kill her. But somehow, her death didn't seem quite as appealing as most people's did.

Alyssa had turned pale again as Barty raised her wand, fear shining clear in her eyes. But she didn't fight it. She looked like she had resigned herself to this fate. Like she somehow knew that Barty would always end up killing her in the end. That she would just be another one to fall to his wand.

And, at the last moment, he lowered his wand, gripping it so hard his knuckles turned white. His tongue flicked out of his mouth and he turned on his heel and stalked off. What was wrong with him? Why wasn't he killing her? Why wasn't she dead at his feet like so many others? Was he slipping?

He walked down the corridor, his leather boots hitting the ground in a quick rhythm as he tried to escape the feeling of pain in chest. It only increased, though, the farther he got from Alyssa. He shook his head, tongue flicking incessantly, and gritted his teeth.

He kicked the door open again, the crisp fall air stinging his face. He heard footsteps behind him and tried to slam the door on them. But Alyssa made it out just in time. But it was a mistake on her part.

Immediately, at least twenty heads of Death Eaters turned to look at her. "Crouch? What's she doing out?" one of them asked.

"And why doesn't she have her cuffs on?" another asked.

"Imperius curse." Barty replied. "I'm taking her to the Dark Lord now." he said, lying fluently.

Why was he protecting her? He should just let them kill her. It would be a fitting way for her to die.

"Oh, Crouch, always eager to impress. Well, good luck!"

He nodded and walked out of the ruins, heading back to the forest, Alyssa close behind. They walked for a long time before she decided it was safe to speak again.

"Why did you defend me?" she asked suddenly.

"None of your business." he replied, his voice dark.

"Yeah, actually, it kind of is. I want to know why you saved my life after mumbling about killing me for the past couple days."

"I don't know!" he cried, stopping and turning to face her. "I shouldn't have! I should have just left you there to die!" his tongue darted between his lips. "I should just kill you now for everything you've put me through!"

Alyssa stared at him, either not believing him or waiting for the killing blow.

Barty grit his teeth. "Well, go! Before I change my mind!" he turned away from her, keeping his head low and shoulders hunched.

"Barty," she began.

"Get out of here!" he shouted, turning and lunging at her.

She backed up, eyes wide, and then turned, taking off down the dirt road. He was breathing heavily, tongue flicking angrily. He yelled out in rage and turned, blowing up a nearby tree with his wand. The smoldering ashes fell to the ground, but it didn't satisfy him. He turned, trudging noisily through the dried leaves. He kicked at the dirt, holding his wand by his side, the pain in his chest increasing.


	6. Chapter 6

What was that feeling? It felt like he being continually stabbed with a knife, right into his beating heart. It hurt. He wanted to know what it was, and the fact that he had no idea was filling him with rage. He wanted to stop the feeling. It was awful, and he had never felt it before. He wanted to cut off whatever it was, because it seemed an awful lot like a weak point.

He walked quickly, not having to wait around for Alyssa now. He could continue on as fast or as slow as he liked. And the terrible feeling of the cold metal around his neck was gone. The wand in his hand surged with power, and he knew he could do anything now. He was free.

So why did he still feel so trapped?

He walked on, not even turning his head as he shouted the killing curse at a fox running by. It fell dead, and he kicked it out of the road with his thick boot. He grit his teeth hard, adjusting his grip on his wand.

Still confused and in a bit of a daze from the burning pain in his chest, footsteps came racing up to him. His head jerked up, his dark eyes picking out a dark shape moving towards him at a fairly quick pace. After a moment, it stopped, and so did Barty. His tongue flicked between his lips and he got a more comfortable grip on his wand.

"Are you Barty Crouch Junior?" a voice called out.

That was a rather stupid question. Barty's face was plastered all over every city or town with magic around, so if this man was a wizard, he should have known. And if he cared, he wouldn't have told this man. That would be practically asking to go back to Azkaban.

But obviously, Barty didn't care.

His tongue flicked again and he began to walk towards the figure, slowly at first, and then into a full sprint. He stopped at the last minute, grabbed the man's shirt collar, and pushed him up against a nearby tree. The man gasped, his eyes wide.

"Do I look like somebody else, by chance?" Barty hissed.

"N-no," the man managed, choking a bit.

Barty gripped the man's collar tighter, leaning closer to him, tongue flicking menacingly. He raised his wand and pressed it against the man's nose.

"Well then, there's the answer to your question." he snapped.

"I-I'm here to place you under citizen's arrest," the man stammered.

Barty laughed. He couldn't help it. This pathetic lump was here to send him back to Azkaban? The sound of it was dark and filled up the forest, making every other growl or shriek of an animal seem harmless compared to the sound leaving Barty's throat. It sent shivers up the man's spine, and Barty could feel him shaking against the tree. The smell of fear coming off him was so strong, it was almost overwhelming.

"You?" Barty finally asked, a twisted grin dancing across his lips. "You're going to send me back to that dreaded prison?"

The man nodded, not even a flicker of real confidence in his eyes. "You have quite a big bounty on your head, and-"

"Oh, don't tell me. You have a wife and children to feed, and you need the money from my capture to help you stay alive." Barty mocked him.

The man nodded.

"And, what, you just expect me to up and turn myself in because you need the money?" his tongue flicked again.

"Well, I thought you weren't as bad as the stories-"

Barty cut him off again. "Oh, the stories don't do me justice." he said, pushing him back against the tree harder. "The stories don't tell of everything." his tongue appeared and disappeared in an instant.

The man gulped. "W-what don't they tell?"

"You're looking at me. Decide for yourself."

Barty traced his wand down the man's face. "But, you're not important at all. In fact, if you were gone, your wife and children might find it easier to get on. I should just kill you now."

The man's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "W-what? Y-you wouldn't!"

"And that's where the stories have deceived you. Have you ever heard of the killing curse?" Barty asked, tracing his wand delicately around the man's eye.

"You can't use that! It's one of the unforgivable curses!" the man cried.

Barty shoved him against the tree harder, pushing his face closer to him. "You think I care? I'm already supposed to be dead right now, but I escaped! Azkaban can't hold me, and death can't find me! What else can they do to me? They're already trying to kill me! That's it! It doesn't matter how many times I use any of the unforgivable curses, that's as far as they can go!" his tongue flicked angrily. "And you know what? They'll never kill me. I always make it out. Azkaban is nothing to me. They don't scare me. Nothing scares me. Not you, not the pathetic threats you little men give me, nothing! Have you got that? Nothing!" he was practically screaming now.

The man just nodded, unable to say anything. His face had drained of all blood, and he seemed to finally be realizing he had hunted down the wrong criminal. He was no doubt from that town they had visited earlier. He had probably started following them right when they left. Now he had finally caught up.

But Barty had had enough. He pulled his wand away, still aiming it at him.

The man opened his mouth again. "No, please, just let me go! I promise I won't tell anybody where you are, and I won't cause any more trouble for you!"

"All you are is a nuisance." Barty growled. He grit his teeth. "Avada Kedavra!" he cried suddenly.

Immediately, the man went limp in his arms. Barty dropped him, letting him slide to the forest floor. He huffed, adjusting his jacket, and turned, not looking back, gripping his wand tightly.

There he was, one of the most fearsome people on this planet. Thousands of witches and wizards were terrified of him. If they heard he was coming their way, they would lock their doors and barricade their windows. They'd send out only the strongest men to stand up to him, and Barty would kill them all where they stood.

But he hurt. Oh, he hurt so badly.

His chest ached with every step, and the kill brought him no satisfaction as it normally did. With every step, it felt as if someone were cutting a hole into him, and then tearing him apart even further. It hurt like nothing ever had. Even the Dementor's torture didn't stand up to this.

He walked for hours, barely knowing where he was or where he was going. He just put one foot in front of the other, staring off into the distance. His eyes looked glazed over, and he reached up as if to fiddle with cuffs around his wrists, but none were there. Nobody was holding him captive anymore.

He walked until the sun started to rise, painting the sky with brilliant oranges and reds. Barty squinted upwards. The sun, even barely over the hills, was hurting his eyes. His eyes that were so used to the shadows and overwhelming blackness. His pale skin that rarely saw the light of day was already tingling at the thought of being burned by the star.

He turned, glancing around for somewhere to sleep. Off to his right, there was a tree with thick branches shrouded in leaves. He walked up to it, grabbing hold of the lowest branch. He put his wand back into his jacket pocket and swung himself upwards, climbing easily up into the tree. He climbed up more so he was hidden a bit more by the leaves and slithered out onto a thick branch. He didn't think he'd fall off. He had slept in trees before, so he knew the secrets to locking himself in the branches.

He nestled himself between a few thinner branches springing from the thick one, and wriggled his shoulders. They didn't move much, which was a good sign. He let out a slow breath, closing his eyes. The bright sun shone through his eyelids, but he ignored it, the gentle sway of the branches around him and the leaves rustling quietly lulling him into a trance, and soon to sleep.

Sleep was his favorite thing to do. It was the only time when he could simply close his eyes and forget about the world for awhile. The pain in his chest faded, his scars disappeared, and the warm blackness engulfed him, rocking him to sleep and whispering that it would be alright.

But it went all too fast. What felt like moments later, his eyes were snapping open. The sun was setting and the moon could be seen, rising opposite the bright star.

Barty laid there for a moment longer, allowing himself to savor the last moments of drowsiness before the reality hit him fully. Then, he jumped out of the tree, rolling neatly to a stop and standing up, stretching and popping his neck, trying to get all the stiffness of sleep out of his body.

Then he started walking again.

He walked in silence, and soon enough, the moon rose fully, putting the sun to sleep. The moon bathed him in silver light, provided plenty of light for him to be able to see. The little lights came out after the moon, all those stars looking like sparkles so far above him. He imagined what it must be like up there. So quiet. So peaceful, and full of darkness. The darkness that let him forget everything.

He continued walking, boots trudging along the dirt pathway, weaving between the trees and undergrowth. He breathed in the crisp air, the smell of dried leaves and fresh mud thick around him. It was going to rain.

Not an hour later, his prediction came true. Thunder sounded softly in the distance and Barty felt the first drops of rain hit his head. Dark clouds rolled in and blocked out the light of the moon and stars, leaving him in an even darker night. Not that that was a problem. He could still see just as well as before.

Soon, the rain increased in intensity, threatening to soak through his long jacket. The dirt path around him turned to mud and he sloshed forwards. His hair plastered to his head and water ran down his face, making him seem even more menacing than before.

Although the rain also showed how pathetically skinny he was. His clothes stuck to his gangly body, showing every rib, every bit of bony, underfed part of him. And still, people feared him.

Suddenly, thunder cracked directly overhead, and not an instant later, lightening flashed, lighting up the forest for a millisecond. But it didn't bother him. If anything, Barty actually liked the storms. Things that a lot of people were terrified of, he loved.

His jacket seemed to weigh a million pounds, but still he trudged forwards, a bit of water getting into his boots. His stomach rumbled inside him, sounding a lot like the thunder around him.

"Shut up," Barty muttered, not caring that he was talking to himself.

The rain continued to pour, relentlessly hitting his head and making the path treacherously slippery. Then, as thunder sounded again, followed closely by a bolt of lightning above him, Barty saw a town in front of him. The same one he had went through with Alyssa.

Not really caring that they had tried to attack him last time, he continued to walk towards it. Besides, nobody should be out right now. He was probably insane not to be taking cover right now. That didn't bother him, though.

His jacket was now thoroughly soaked, and the rain had chilled him to the bone. He was shivering violently, and his boots were practically full of water. His shirt beneath his jacket was clinging to his skinny torso, and his head slumped with fatigue. His stomach growled again, no matter how he tried to quiet it.

As he trudged into the little town, he found he was right. No one was out. They were all hiding in their homes, like sensible people. The only person he failed to see was a redhead, going into the inn behind him. But she didn't see him either.

Barty kept his head low, his teeth practically chattering and his hands shaking from the cold. He had been through worse, though, so no sound of complaint escaped his lips.

Suddenly, just as he was about to make it back into the forest on the other end of the town, a door next to him swung open. An older lady stood in the doorway, eyes wide as she looked right at him.

Barty stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. What was she going to do? Try to arrest him too?

"What on Earth are you doing out here?" her fairly squeaky old lady voice cried.

She stood in her doorway, glancing up at the sky before looking back to him. She was fairly thin, and still looked like she could put up a bit of a fight. Nothing he couldn't handle, though.

"Uh..." Barty didn't know what to say. That had been the last thing he was expecting.

"This weather is no place for anybody! Come inside, young man. Get yourself warmed up." she looked him over. "And you look hungry. Come in, I'm just finishing up a beef stew." she held the door open for him, pulling an old shawl around her shoulders more. "Well come on, then!" she cried. "You're letting all the heat out!"


	7. Chapter 7

Not knowing what else to do, Barty hurried in. Every part of him was screaming at him that this was stupid, and it was probably a trap. But even if it was, Barty could take this old woman, even being so cold and hungry. A few words and a flick of his wand, and she could be laying limp on the floor, never to move again. The woman shut the door behind him, shivering lightly and taking a step back to look at him again. "Oh dear, you look awful!" she cried.

He frowned, but didn't say anything. Didn't she recognize him?

"Take your coat off, we can hang it by the fire, get it dried off. And leave your boots by the door. I just swept earlier today, and I don't want mud all over the house." For some reason, Barty did just as she said. He unzipped his thick boots and put them messily by the door, water spilling out onto the ground. The woman didn't seem to notice though, and was standing over by the fire, stirring a pot of stew. He took his jacket off too, with a bit of difficulty, noticing just how heavy the water had made the leather. He laid it over the back of a chair near the fire, hoping it would be dry by tomorrow.

The woman turned back to him, frowning again. "Here, stand by the fire. Warm up a bit."

Why was she doing this for him? He was confused. But, not protesting, he stumbled forwards, holding his hands out to the soft flames. The heat hit his palms first, and then raced up his arms like warm fingers slowly erasing the chill from earlier.

He let out a slow breath, enjoying the feeling. Then, suddenly feeling undefended, he fumbled with his heavy jacket, finding his wand in the pocket. He stuck it in the back pocket of his pants, kneeled down by the fire, still holding his hands out. The smell of the stew filled the air around him, and his stomach growled noisily.

He heard a chuckle from behind him, and he whirled. "Don't worry, the stew will be done in just a few minutes. Anyways, I found a set of clothes that should fit you until yours dry, in case you want to get changed." she said, her voice kind.

Barty searched her voice for any sign of deception, like maybe she was planning on killing him somehow, but there was nothing.

"Thanks," he muttered, the word unfamiliar on his lips.

The woman handed him the clothes, a sweet smile on her lips. "Of course. I'm Lucky, by the way. Lucky Stark." she said. "What's your name, son?"

Before he could think, he blurted, "Barty."

That was stupid of him. He should have at least used a fake name. Lucky was bound to have seen his face around the town on all the wanted posters.

"May I ask your last name?" she asked curiously.

Again, before he could think, he told her. "Crouch. Barty Crouch."

Great, now she was going to kick him out. Before he got any stew. Or maybe try to attack him.

But, surprisingly, she didn't do anything like that. She just smiled. "Pleasure, Mr. Crouch. Now, you ought to go get changed. There's a bathroom just down the hall." she said, and walked past him to her pot of stew, stirring it again.

He gulped, dumbfounded at how she was so cooped up that she didn't know who he was. But he didn't fight it. A dry change of clothes and a bit of stew was good enough for him to stay.

He walked to the bathroom, noting the small window to his left in case he needed a quick escape. Or he could just blow a hole in the wall. That would work too.

He took off his shirt first, noticing a towel in with the neatly folded clothes. He took it and dried himself off, ruffling his messy hair a bit, taking most of the water out of it. He dried his arms and chest off, looking into the dirty mirror at himself. He looked rather pathetic without his long jacket, he was noticing. But he still had his wand, and that was all that mattered.

He put the fresh shirt on, the dry fabric against his skin a welcome change, even if it did vaguely smell of cinnamon. In fact, her whole house smelled of cinnamon. And although the shirt was a bit big, he didn't care. He changed his pants too, his wet ones seeming to weigh a million pounds. He stuck his wand into his back pocket again, and walked back out to where Lucky was serving up bowls of the stew. His stomach growled again and she turned her head.

"I'm getting you food, don't worry!" she said, laughing lightly.

Without saying a word, he went and set his wet clothes in front of the fire.

"That's better," she commented. "You don't look so bad dry. Now, how about you get some stew in 'ya. You need to get some meat on those bones!"

She handed him a bowl of steaming hot stew, and he took it gratefully. He gently stirred it around with the spoon, and then took a long sip of it. Immediately, he burnt his tongue.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Lucky said, not even looking at him as Barty nearly dropped the bowl as pain seared his mouth.

"Ahh!" he cried, setting the bowl back down on the table.

She chuckled lightly, but not in a way that said she thought he was stupid. It was a good humored, sweet chuckle.

"Here, have a seat." she said handing him the bowl again and gesturing to the couch behind him.

Hesitantly, taking his wand out of his back pocket, he sat down, holding the bowl gingerly. His stomach was growling noisily again, and he wanted desperately just to drink up all of the stew now, but he held himself back so as not to burn his tongue again.

"So," Lucky began, taking a seat in a big, rather fluffy arm chair, beside the couch. "What were you doing outside on a day like today? You should know not to be outside in this weather, especially not so late at night."

Barty shrugged, this time not blurting anything out. "What time is it?" he asked curiously.

"Mmm," she looked up at a clock hanging above the fireplace. "Eleven."

Barty raised an eyebrow, wondering why she was eating dinner so late, and she seemed to sense it.

"I always have dinner late. It sort of stuck with me after my husband... Well, after he left." she gulped. "He always had dinner late, so I was forced to make it late, and it sort of just kept going."

He nodded. "Why would he have it so late?"

"Oh, he was constantly tinkering. We had a bit bigger of a house. We lived in the States for awhile, California. He had a big shop, and by the time he realized he was hungry for dinner, it would be ten o'clock. Drove me mad." she sighed. "He never had dinner on time unless I made him go out with me. But he was always busy."

"Do you miss him?"

Why was he continuing this conversation? He didn't do that. He shouldn't do that. He didn't care. This lady was crazy for letting him in, and obviously a bit dimwitted for not knowing who he was. But... Something about her kept him talking. She had a little sparkle in her eye, like she knew something nobody else did. That she wasn't just a crazy old lady.

"Oh yes." she breathed, looking intently into her bowl of stew. "I miss him more than anything. I'd trade the world to get him back."

Barty looked at her for a moment, looking at the pain in her eyes. It seemed familiar. But where from? Of course, he had seen that pain in many of his victim's eyes, but this seemed even more familiar.

"But enough about me. What about you, Mr. Crouch? Where do you come from? I see your wand there. Are you from Hogwarts or the Ministry?"

He nearly laughed. But... Maybe he should say he was. After all, his father had been a part of the ministy. But he shouldn't remind her of his identity anymore than he had to. No, better to make something up.

"I'm from Hogwarts, of a sort. I graduated a few years back, but I was asked to stay and help with a class. An assistant teacher, if you like." he said, not missing a beat.

She nodded. "Let me guess... Potions?"

"Defense against the Dark Arts, actually."

"Ah. What house are you? Wait! Let me guess. Slytherin?"

He nodded. That actually had been his house when he had been in Hogwarts, so many years ago, it seemed.

She grinned. "Thought so. You definitely fit the Slytherin house, I would think."

Barty couldn't tell if that was a compliment or not.

"What about you?" he asked. "Ever go to Hogwarts?"

"Oh, not really. I've visited there once or twice, but never attended. I lived in the United States, as I said earlier. The only magic school over there is The Academy. They have the same houses as Hogwarts, but I only went for five years." she replied.

"What house were you?" he asked curiously.

"Well, in The Academy, they don't have any sort of Sorting Hat, or any sorting clothes, for that matter. You have to take a test, and then they place you. Thing is, I tied for Slytherin and Gryffindor." she smiled slyly.

Barty raised an eyebrow. "Which did you get put into?"

"They put me in Gryffindor. But there were times when I desperately wished for Slytherin."

"Why?"

"My future husband was in Slytherin, and I had a crush on him from the first time I laid on eyes on him."

Barty nodded, suddenly realizing he was enjoying listening to this lady speak. He started to take bite of his stew, the warm liquid and hot meat flowing down his throat and slowly warming his chilled insides. It was either extremely delicious, or he was hungrier than he thought.

Suddenly, Lucky paused. "Needs more salt," she commented, wrinkling her nose.

"Tastes good to me." Barty said.

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you." she took a bite. "Anyways, would you like to stay the night here? The couch is comfortable enough, and the storm should pass by tomorrow."

He knew he should turn the offer down. But... his clothes would most likely be dry by then. And he needed to get some sleep. But, he wasn't going to sleep at night. He couldn't. He'd fall asleep as soon as the sun rose, and then he'd be in an interesting situation.

"I'd like that." he finally said.

"Brilliant! I'll get you some blankets and a pillow as soon as I'm done." she said.

Barty suddenly realized something. Was this what it was like to have a mother? Did they take care of you like this? Did they feed you and give you extra clothes and make sure you were warm enough? He didn't know. He didn't remember his.

"So, do you have any family? A girlfriend maybe?" she winked at him.

He looked up, suddenly realizing something. His mom was long gone, for probably two decades now. He had killed his father just a few weeks ago. And no girl in their right mind would dream of even looking at him with anything other than disgust and fear. Not that he cared.

"Um... No." he said quietly.

Lucky faltered. "Father or mother?"

He shook his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry." she said, averting her eyes.

He shrugged. "It's fine, I don't care."

She gave him a look that seemed to say she didn't believe him, but he ignored it.

After that, conversation was a bit strained. Barty didn't talk much anyways, and Lucky just focused on finishing her bowl of soup. She told him he could get more if he liked, and so he found himself eating four bowls. Lucky was happy though, celebrating that finally she wouldn't have any leftovers.

A few minutes later, after Barty had had enough stew to last him two days at least, she brought him a fluffy looking pillow and three soft blankets. He took them hesitantly, looking confused at first. Lucky seemed to notice, but didn't say anything.

She spread them out on the couch and left the room, leaving him to do what he liked. He lay down on the couch for awhile, sticking his wand between the cushions so he could get to it easily. But, just as he predicted, he didn't sleep. He just laid on the couch for a long time, staring at the ceiling, thinking.

The heat from the fire was a welcome change from the chilly autumn air, and the rain pattered against the roof, slowly lulling him into a trance. And then, just as the still dark clouds outside started to become lighter with the light of day, he closed his eyes, the rain finally putting him to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Throughout his whole sleep, there was a warm, comfortable feeling seeping through his skin. He held his wand close to his chest, just in case, but the warm blankets and the soft cushions and pillow pulled him into such a deep sleep, that no trace of his day or any other thoughts crept into his sleeping consciousness.

Finally waking up hours later, he blinked open his eyes. At first, he was confused. Where was he? Wasn't he supposed to be outside? Why was he so warm? Were these blankets?

And then he remembered. Slowly, he sat up. Lucky was sitting in her armchair, facing the fire and knitting with what looked like dragon bone knitting needles. And Barty couldn't tell if she was actually knitting, or if the needles were enchanted to make it look like she was.

"Good morning." she said, without turning. "Or, should I say good evening."

He blinked, and then yawned, stretching a bit.

"Most people sleep at night, you know." she teased him, setting her knitting things down and getting up, smiling kindly at him.

"Yeah..." he trailed off, not sure how to respond to that.

"Anyways, your clothes are dry. And I cleaned your boots."

He looked over and saw that his black boots were shiny again, like they were when he first got them. Actually, they looked shinier now than they did when he first got them.

"Uh, thanks." he stammered, uncomfortable with how many times he had been saying that word to her.

"Of course. And before you try to escape, you're not going anywhere until I feed you dinner. Or, I suppose it would be breakfast to you." she winked at him and went into another room. She came back a moment later, holding a tray of what looked like sweet rolls. "Here, take a few. Don't worry, they're not poisoned." she added, noticing the way he was looking at them.

He stumbled out of the mess of blankets he had created, munching on one of the delicious rolls. He noticed his coat hanging up on a rack near the door just above his boots, which were standing up neatly. His clothes were folded nicely and placed on the table, waiting for him. He picked them up, glancing at Lucky, who had gone back to her knitting.

As he went back to the bathroom, he noticed that his clothes smelled a bit like cinnamon now, and he wondered if he did too. Gulping down the rest of his roll, he got changed, his own clothes fitting him a bit better. He brought her crumpled clothes back out, not sure what to do with them. He set them on the table, the shirt falling to the ground.

"This is it, then? You can stay longer if you like. It's still a bit rainy outside." Lucky said, glancing back at him from her spot by the fire.

Barty walked over to his coat, grabbing it off the rack. "I gotta go." he said simply, shrugging it on. It was much lighter when it wasn't soaked.

She nodded, then got up and walked over to him. "Alright. But take care of yourself, alright? Don't get into too much trouble, and if you ever need somewhere to come, my door will always be open for you." she took his hand and placed something cold into it. He looked down and saw a key. "Don't lose it." she said flatly, narrowing her eyes slightly. "But really, even if I'm not here, don't hesitate to make yourself at home." why was she doing this? "And, don't be so alone. It'd do you good to find someone."

Barty slipped his boots on, zipping them up to his mid-calf. It was like she was listing off rules for him, and it was a bit annoying. He tucked his wand back into his jacket pocket and stood up straight again. Suddenly, he felt arms around him.

His eyes widened and he looked down on the top of Lucky's head. Her hair was blonde, he noticed for the first time, with just a few, barely visible grey streaks.

Hesitantly, he was about to hug her back, when she pulled away.

"Now go." she said, walking back to her chair in the fireplace. "I know what it's like for you criminal types. Always on the run."

"W-what?" he asked suddenly, his heart skipping a beat.

"Goodbye, Mr. Crouch." she replied, not looking back, a small smile on her lips.

Gulping, he turned and walked outside, shutting the door behind him. Immediately, the chilly air overtook any hint of the warm air around him. The rain was falling softer now, but the path was still wet and a bit slippery.

He bent his head low, walking out of the town before anybody could see him. Only one person saw him. The same redhead from before. But she didn't say anything. She just watched him go, sighing sadly.

Barty walked into the forest, the shadows engulfing him, and he was on the move again. But his mind was still spinning. Had Lucky known the whole time who he was? And she hadn't poisoned either of his meals? And she had given him the key to her house? What kind of person would do that? He was beyond confused.

But it didn't matter. He was still alive, and the woman had kept him from catching any sort of sickness that may have weakened him.

His breath came in clouds, and his previously clean boots were now splashed with mud. His footsteps seemed to be the beat to a song only he could hear, and the rain continued to fall lightly. He was alone again. That was how it should be.

He tried to force the old lady, Lucky Stark, from his thoughts. But she lingered in his mind, and her smell, the light cinnamon scent, clung to his clothes, even in the drizzling rain. The little sparkle in her eyes that gave her away as cleverer than she let on stayed in his mind's eye. She had probably known he was pretty much a most wanted criminal the whole time. And if she knew that, then she had to have known that he had escaped Azkaban - twice - was a killer, and a follower of Voldermort. And still, she fed him and gave him a place to sleep.

He shook his head angrily. Why was he obsessing over this woman? She didn't mean anything. His tongue flicked, something that hadn't happened almost the whole day yesterday, and he stomped forwards.

Eventually, the drizzling rain adding to his bad mood, faded away. The moon came back out, lighting up the forest in its silvery light. He stopped for a moment and looked up at the big ball of light so far above him. The stars slowly began to show through the clouds, which were drifting apart. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, chasing away every last bit of the warmth from Lucky Stark's house.

That was good. He couldn't allow himself to become soft. He couldn't allow himself to lose his edge. He couldn't allow it to become any harder for the killing curse to leave his lips, or any of the unforgiveable curses, for that matter. They were too effective for him to just stop using them.

He looked back to the road in front of him and continued to walk, leaving the town behind, unaware that Lucky was standing in her doorway, watching him disappear completely. Even her keen eye couldn't pick out his shape anymore.

Where was he to go now? He hadn't thought that through. He was just walking, never stopping. On the run, as he always was. The Dark Lord didn't even know he was alive, unless somehow one of his fellow Death Eaters had contacted him. And even if Voldermort knew he was alive and out of Azkaban, would he care? Surely he would. Barty had completed his duty more than well. He had almost killed Harry Potter, which would have just been an added bonus.

His chest swelled with the thought of the Dark Lord. He had never wanted anything more than to be his favorite. He wanted the Dark Lord to be proud of him, as his father never was.

As his thoughts shifted to his father, Barty Crouch Senior, his lips twisted into a snarl. His tongue flicked again. His father never liked him. He always was telling him to do better, and didn't pay attention when he did do something good. His mum died before he could really retain any remembrance of her. But if she was anything like Lucky, then he wished he would have known her.

There she was again. Lucky Stark. She kept creeping back into his thoughts. He blamed it on the cinnamon smell attached to his clothes. He'd have to go jump into a river or something eventually to wash it out if this was going to keep happening.

He trudged onwards, mud sloshing up around him, the forest bathed in the silver light of the moon. The air smelled clean now, and it was a smell Barty enjoyed. The smell before and after a storm. He'd rather smell like that than cinnamon.

The time seemed to pass faster than normal, because before he knew it, the sun was rising in the distance, slowly beginning its job of drying up all the rain. Barty realized he'd be sleeping on something wet tonight, but didn't let it bother him. Just because he'd had one night on a couch didn't mean he could judge everywhere else he got to sleep now.

He started peering around for a place to sleep, straying from the path a few times. Eventually, as the sun was beginning to burn his eyes, he spotted a little hole in the ground. It looked a bit like some sort of animal den, but from what he could see, it looked long abandoned. It even looked fairly dry inside, even though it would be cramped.

Not questioning it anymore, he curled himself up and squeezed into the small den, getting dirt in his damp hair. His knees pressed up against his chest and his back was bent at a funny angle. But almost as soon as he closed his eyes, he drifted off.

It wasn't as quite as a deep sleep as Lucky's house, but it was still nice. The only dream was the occasional flash of the old, blonde haired woman and a familiar looking redhead. But they never said anything. They just stared at him unnervingly.

Eventually, he woke up to a scratching outside his little hiding spot. He looked up and saw a small fox, sniffing around the den.

Oops.

Even if it was just a small animal, almost a rodent, its claws were a force to be reckoned with. Barty reached for his wand, just managing to get it out of his jacket without stabbing himself in the face with it. The fox suddenly found him, and it bared his teeth, growling at him. It started creeping towards him. That's as far as it got.

"_Crucio,_" Barty hissed, aiming his wand at the fox.

Pathetic whimpering filled the air as it began to be tortured. It fell to the ground, scratching trying to somehow stop the pain. Barty's tongue flicked and he managed to crawl out of the den, feeling every bit of his body ache.

He stretched, the whimpering of the fox getting on his nerves. He turned and kicked it, the fox crying out even louder. Barty grit his teeth and stomped away, hearing the whimpering fade, and then come to a stop. It had given in to the torture.

He stretched his arms a bit, then put his wand back into his pocket. The sun was still up, but it was going down fast. He sighed and began to trudge through the undergrowth back to the path. Still a bit drowsy, yawning a bit, he nearly ran into a tree more than once.

Finally, he stumbled back onto the road, the sunset painting the sky a thousand shades of orange. He squinted up at it. Most people thought sunsets were beautiful. The only reason Barty liked them was because it meant the sun was going away.

He licked his lips anxiously, trying to will the sun to go down faster. He craved the dull moon light and the shadows the trees cast, providing a hiding place where he could watch for enemies.

He began to walk anyways, having to look at the ground so as not to burn his eyes. The sun had dried up a lot of the rain from before, although the path was still a bit damp.

Finally, the moon came up and sun went down, leaving him in the comfortable darkness.

And he walked.

This was how it went for a long time. He didn't know how long, it felt like forever and a second at the same time. He had to find a place to sleep three times. That was three days. Three days of wandering around aimlessly. Three days of being completely lost and having no idea of where he was. Three days of no one in the world knowing for sure whether he was alive or dead. Three days of being completely, and utterly alone. He was more alone now than he had ever been in Azkaban. He was more alone now than he had ever been.

Because now, as the days passed, he was realizing more and more how alone he really was. His mum was dead, as she had been for a long time. His dad was dead as well, by his own hand. That he didn't regret at all.

His tongue flicked.

He was born an only child, or if he ever had any siblings he never knew of them. His fellow Death Eaters were few in number, and didn't know where he was or whether he was still alive or not most of the time. He had been stuck with Alyssa for awhile, but then he made her leave. And then he was with Lucky for a day.

But he was alone again. So alone. There was no one there but his shadow, which just melted into the others of the forest. But he just kept walking. What else could he do? He'd figure out what to do soon enough.

He was coming up on a hill. The dirt pathway was slowly fading away, and Barty thought he might be getting lost in the forest soon. But as he trudged up the hill, a city was laid out before him, its sparkling lights filling up the night sky, outshining the stars above him.

"Oh..." he trailed off, realizing he had made it all the way to London. From where, he wasn't sure. But he was there.

London was a muggle city, mostly, and none of them would recognize him. But, a lot of wizards and witches did live in the city. But not now... It was autumn. The students would all be at Hogwarts, along with the teachers. Most of them would be at their jobs during the day, too busy keeping away from muggles and going about their business to notice him. He could be there, at least for a little while.

His mind made up, he walked forward, beginning his walk down the hill and towards the city. The forest began to become more and more sparse, until it was just a bush or small tree here and there, and then it was just a grassy field. Yawning, he nearly tripped over a mole hill. He frowned at it, his tongue flicking, but kept going. He was almost there now.

Not twenty minutes later he finally made it to a dark alleyway, jumping in from the grassy field. A cat ran across the alley, possibly running from Barty. He trudged forward, boots hitting the ground with confidence. He was in a muggle city now. He could kill them all with a single spell if he felt like it.

But London isn't as quiet as the little towns at night. Even at one o'clock in the morning, the streets were lit up with lights and people were walking around. Most of them were the suspicious looking type though, the kind that you'd hold your mum's hand a bit tighter around. Barty blended in perfectly. In fact, he even seemed to scare a few of them.

He walked about like he owned the place. People gave him odd looks as he walked by, and he ignored them mostly.

Pathetic muggles.

His tongue flicked out of his mouth and his brown eyes landed on a man fingering what looked like a gun on his hip. He was watching him intently. They seemed to share a brief understanding, and Barty's curiosity got the better of him.

His tongue flicked again.

He veered off the sidewalk and into another alleyway, hearing the man's close footsteps behind him. Suddenly, he felt the cold metal of a gun point press against the back of his head.


End file.
